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PUBLICATIONS

OF THE

Modern Language Association

AMERICA

EDITED BY

JAMES W. BRIGHT

SECRETARY OF THE ASSOCIATION

VOL. XVI.
NEW SERIES, VOL. IX.

BALTIMORE

PUBLISHED BY THE ASSOCIATION

PRINTED BY JOHN MURPHY COMPANY

1901

CONTENTS.

PAGE.
I.— The Sources of Titus Andronicus. By HAROLD DE W.

FULLER, 1

II.— "Tittus and Vespacia" and "Titus and Ondronicus" in

Henslowe's Diary. By GEORGE P. BAKER, 66

III. — The New Function of Modern Language Teaching. By

THOMAS R. PRICE, - 77

IV.— The Problematic Hero in German Fiction. By A. B.

FAUST, 92

V. — Lessing's Treatment of the Story of the Ring, and its Teach-
ing. ByW. H. CARRUTH, 107

VI.— A Note on the Prison-Scene in Goethe's Faust. By JAMES

TAFT HATFIELD, 117

VII.— The Home of the Heliand. By HERMANN COLLITZ, - 123

VIIL— The Appositive Participle in Anglo-Saxon. By MORGAN

CALLAWAY, JR., 141

IX.— The Primitive Prise d' Orange. By RAYMOND WEEKS, - 361

X.— On the Latin Sources of Thlbes and tineas. By F. M.

WARREN, 375

XL— The Prologue of the Wife of Bath's Tale. By WILLIAM E.

MEAD, 388

XII.— Chaucer's Franklin's Tale. By WILLIAM HENRY SCHO-

FIELD, / 4(

XII I.— A Friend of Chaucer's. By G. L. KITTREDGE, - - 450

XIV. — English Influence upon Spanish Literature in the Early

Part of the Nineteenth Century. By J. D. M. FORD, - 453

XV. — Two Notes on the Historia Regum Britanniae of Geoffrey of

Monmouth. By ROBERT HUNTINGTON FLETCHER, - 461

XVL— The Book of the Courtyer: a Possible Source of Benedick and

Beatrice. By MARY AUGUSTA SCOTT, - 475

XVII. — Dlalogus inter Corpus et Animam : a Fragment and a Transla-
tion. By CLARK SUTHERLAND NORTHUP, - - - 503

iii

iv CONTENTS.

APPENDIX.

PAGE.

Proceedings of the Eighteenth Annual Meeting of the Modern
Language Association of America, held at the University of
Pennsylvania, Philadelphia, Pa., December 27, 28, 29, 1900.

Congress of Philological and Archaeological Societies, - Hi

General Meetings of the Congress, - iii

Report of the Secretary, iv

Report of the Treasurer, v

Appointment of committees, -- vi

1. The Home of the Heliand. By HERMANN COLLITZ, - vi

2. The Problematic Hero in German Fiction. By A. B. FAUST, vi

3. English Influence upon Spanish Literature in the Early Part

of the Nineteenth Century. By J. D. M. FORD, - - vii

4. The Faire Maide of Bristow. Comedy, 1 605. By ARTHUR H.

QUINN, vii

5. Researches in Experimental Phonetics. By E. W. SCKIP-

TURE, vii

6. Some Popular Literary Motives in the Edda and the Heims-

kringla. By GUSTAP E. KARSTEN, .... viii

7. The Language of Luther's Ein Urleil der Theologen zu Paris,

1521. By H. SCHMIDT- WARTENBERG, - viii

8. Dialogus inter Corpus el Animam. By CLARK S. NORTHUP, - viii

9. Guiding Principles in the Study of Literature. By Th. W.

HUNT, - viii

Report of the Committee on International Correspondence, viii

Cooperative Bibliography. By H. A. TODD, .... xi

10. The Book of the Conrtyer : a Possible Source of Benedick and

Beatrice. By MARY AUGUSTA SCOTT, - - - - xv

11. On the Latin Sources of Thebes and Eneas. By F. M.

WARREN, xv

CONTENTS. V

PAGE.

12. Lessing's Treatment of the Story of the Ring, and its Teach-

ing. By W. H. CABRUTH, - - xv

13. The Principles of Hermeneutics. By JULIUS GOEBEL, - xvi

14. The Semasiology of Color-Words and their Congeners, - - xvi

15. Johann Christian Kriiger's Luatspiele [1722-1750]. By

ALBERT HAAS, xvi

16. The English Chronicle Play. By FELIX E. SCHELLING, - xvii

17. The Sources of Titus Andronicus. By HAROLD DE W.

FULLER, xvii

The American Dialect Society, xvii

Report of Committees, - - xvii
Election of Officers, xvii

19. The Legends of Cain and his Descendants in Old and Middle

English Literature. By O. F. EMERSON, - - - xix

Report of the Pedagogical Section :

The Graduate Study of Rhetoric. By W. E. MEAD, Secretary, xix

20. The Primitive Prise d' Orange. By RAYMOND WEEKS, - - xxxii

21. A Note on the Prison-Scene in Goethe's Faust. By JAMES

T. HATFIELD, xxxii

22. On the Middle English Religious Lyric. By J. VINCENT

CROWNE, xxxii

23. The Medea of Euripides and the Medea of Grillparzer. By

C. C. FERRELL, - - xxxiii

24. Literary Manners in the Nineteenth Century. By CHARLES

M. MAGEE, xxxiii

25. Laocoon, and Lessing as a Connoisseur of Art. By K. D.

JESSEN, xxxiii

26. Der mynnen chrieg mit der set: an Inedited Dialogue in the

Alemannic Dialect of the Fifteenth Century. By F. G.

C. SCHMIDT, -- xxxiii

27. Goethe and Pindar. By M. D. LEARNED, - xxxvi

Address of the President of the Association :

The New Function of Modern Language Teaching. By

THOMAS R. PRICE, xxxvi

Vi CONTENTS.

PAGE.

28. A Friend of Chaucer's. By G. L. KITTREDGE, - - - xxxvii

29. The Date of Palamon and Arctic. By JOHN M. MANLY, - xxxvii

30. Chaucer's Franklin's Tale. By W. H. SCHOFIELD, - - xxxvii

31. Is Chaucer to be reckoned as a Modern or as a Medieval

Poet? By F. B. GUMMERE, xxxvii

32. The Prologue of the Wife of Bath' s Tale. By W. E. MEAD, - xl

33. The Development of Middle English Final -ich, -ig, -y. By

GEORGE HEMPL, xl

34. The Khetoric of Verse in Chaucer. By JAMES W. BRIGHT, xl

35. Chaucer's Prologue and Gower's Mirour de I'Omme. By

EWALD FLUEGEL, -------- xliii

Election of Honorary Member?, xliii

A Proposition to regulate the Admission of Papers to the Pro-
grammes, xliii

Final vote of Thanks, xliii

List of Officers, xliv

List of Members, xlv

List of Subscribing Libraries, lx

Honorary Members, Ixii

Roll of Members Deceased, - - Ixiii

The Constitution of the Association, Ixv

PUBLICATIONS

OF THE

MODERN LANGUAGE ASSOCIATION OF AMERICA,

1901.
VOL. XVI, 1. NEW SERIES, VOL. IX, 1.

I.— THE SOURCES OF TITUS ANDRONICUS.1

In any examination of Titus Andronicus the student is
immediately confronted with the questions : "Are we really
to regard Shakspere as the author?" "How did he happen
to choose such repulsive material ? " Or, again, if we assume
that he but touched up an old play, there is still the ques-
tion : " Just how great was this revision ? " In other words,
Titus Andronicus interests most readers not for its real worth
as a drama, but only for what it may or may not represent
in the history of Shakspere's dramatic career. For this
reason it seems essential to give, first of all, a brief account
of previous opinions as to the authorship of this tragedy, so
that we may better understand the importance of determining
its sources.

At the very outset we encounter such diametrically oppo-
site assertions as the following : "As to Titus Andronicus only
the most narrow-minded critic can yet maintain that its

1 1 desire here to acknowledge my indebtedness to Professor Kittredge
and Professor Baker of Harvard University for the kind encouragement
and valuable counsel which I have received from them during the prepara-
tion of this paper. To Mr. C. N. Greenough I am also indebted for the
considerable task of copying the Dutch play, Aran en Titus, and for several
useful suggestions ; to Mr. R. H. Fletcher for helpful criticism.

2 HAROLD DE W. FULLER.

authorship does not belong to Shakspere," l and " No one
among sane English critics believes the play to be Shak-
spere's."2 Hence it will be impossible, within the scope of
this article, to trace the history of previous opinion in any
detail. But, broadly speaking, we may group the views of
scholars under three main heads. First there is the theory
upheld by comparatively few critics — chiefly Germans — that
every line of the play is Shakspere's. own. The champions
of so outspoken an acceptance of Titus Andronicus fortify
themselves by citing, throughout the play, passages which
have a decidedly Shaksperian ring, and by adducing two
pieces of evidence which prima facie seem almost unimpeach-
able : (1) the testimony of Frances Meres, who, in 1598,
recorded Titus Andronicus as one of several dramas which
had exalted Shakspere's fame to a level with that of Plautus
and Seneca,3 and (2) the inclusion of the play in the First
Folio. But their chief reliance seems to be the idea that
Shakspere was little more than an impressionable youth
when he composed this, his first production, so that the play
naturally appears typical of the time rather than of the man.
Perhaps the most enthusiastic advocate of this view was
Franz Horn. " What, as a man/' Horn urged, " was possi-
ble to him in Lear, the youth could not accomplish." 4 And
though in lines, scenes, and scattered characterization, Horn
found a faint suggestion of the later Shakspere, it was never-

1 Cohn, Aihenceum, 1851, p. 22.

2 Fleay, as quoted by Ward : A History of English Dramatic Literature,
London, 1899, vol. ii, p. 55.

? "As Plautus and Seneca are accounted the best for Comedy and Tragedy
among the Latines, so Shakespeare among ye English is the most excellent
in both kinds for the stage; for Comedy witnes his Gentlemen of Verona,
his Errors, his Love labors lost, his Love labours wonne, his Midsummers
night dreame, and his Merchant of Venice ; for Tragedy his Richard the 2.
Richard the 3. Henry the 4. King John, Titus Andronicus and his Romeo
and Juliet." Palladia Tamia. See Shakespeare's Ceniurie of Prayse (New
Shakspere Society), London, 1879, p. 21.

* Shakespeare's Schauspiele Erlautert, Leipzig, 1823, vol. i, p. 304.

THE SOURCES OF TITUS ANDRONICUS. 3

theless Shakspere in the early eighties that he insisted on, —
Shakspere the chameleon rather than the self-reliant drama-
tist. Verplanck 1 and Knight,2 some years later, went over
much the same ground. Both refer to Shakspere as the
"boy-author," hinting that he may have been still a minor.
There remain to-day, so far as I am aware, only a very small
coterie of scholars whom we may put in this first category.
Of these Kurz,3 Creizenach,4 Brandes,5 and Herford6 adopt
Horn's theory, while Schroer,7 Sarrazin,8 and Brandl 9 modify
it to extent of emphasizing the traces of Shaksperian charac-
terization. All of these recent critics, too, favor a somewhat
more conservative date of composition, namely, from 1587
to 1590.

Among the advocates of a second and directly opposite
view, — that Shakspere had no connection whatever with Titus
Andronicus, — it is interesting to note the name of Dr. Johnson.
Thus Johnson observes that "all the editors and critics agree
in supposing this play spurious. I see no reason for differing
with them; for the colour of the style is wholly different from
that of the other plays, and there is an attempt at regular
versification and artificial closes, not always inelegant, yet

1 Shakespeare's Plays, New York, 1847, vol. iii, Introduction to Titus
Andronicus, p. 7.

8 The Pictorial Edition of Shakspere, London, 1838-42, vol. containing T.
A, p. 57.

3 Zu Titus Andronicus, Shakespeare Jahrbuch, v, pp. 82 ff.

*Die Schauspiele der englischen Komodianlen, Berlin, 1889, Introduction
to Titus Andronicus, p. 4.

5 William Shakespeare, translation by William Archer, London, 1898, vol.
i, pp. 36-41.

6 The Works of Shakespeare, London, 1899, vol. vii, p. 292. It has been
my experience to find that conservative critics, almost without exception,
shy at Titus Andronicus; they seem loath to champion any one theory. It
has been necessary, therefore, in this classification to accept as his the
theory which a critic manifestly prefers, even though he does not commit
himself to it in so many words.

7 Uber Titus Andronicus, Marburg, 1891.

8 William Shakespeare's Lehrjahre, Weimar, 1897, pp. 50, 51.

9 Gottingische Gelehrte Anzeigen, 1891, pp. 708 ff.

4 HAROLD DE W. FULLER.

seldom pleasing. The barbarity of the spectacles, and the
general massacre which are here exhibited, can scarcely be
conceived tolerable to any audience; yet we are told by
Jonson that they were not only borne but praised. That
Shakespear wrote any part, though Theobald declares it incon-
testable, I see no reason for believing." l As in the case of the
first view, there are in recent days few so outspoken against
Titus Andronicus as Johnson. Gerald Massey,2 Fleay,3 and
Grosart4 will serve as good examples of the outspoken kind.
The arguments of all three centre in an insurmountable
prejudice against ascribing to Shakspere anything so revolt-
ing as the blood and horror in which this play is steeped.
All three fail to find in its unpleasant nature any similarity
to Shakspere's other plays, — sufficient proof, they think, that
it is not his.

But it is with the third view that the great majority of
critics have identified themselves, — that Shakspere merely
touched up an old play here and there. This opinion first
gained authority from the testimony of a dramatist who came
nearly a century later than Shakspere. In 1687 Edward
Ravenscroft published a revision of Titus Andronicus, in
the preface to which he said : " I have been told by some
anciently conversant with the stage that it was not originally
his [Shakspere's], but brought by a private author to be
acted, and he only gave some master-touches to one or two
of the principal parts or characters."5 To this statement

1 Shakespear, London, 1765, vol. vi, p. 364.

2 Shakspeare>s Sonnets and his Private Friends, London, 1866, pp. 580 ff.

3 The Life and Work of William Shakespeare, London, 1886, p. 282.

4 Was Robert Greene substantially the author of Titus Andronicus f Englische
Studien, 1896, pp. 389-436.

* Titus Andronicus, or the Rape of Larinia, Acted at the Theatre Royall, A
Tragedy. Altered from Mr. Shakespear's Works by Mr. Edw. Ravenscroft.
London, 1687.

In this prologue Ravenscroft goes on to say : " The success [i. e., of his
own revision of Titus Andronicus'] answered the labor, though it first
appeared upon the stage at the beginning of the pretended Popish Plot

THE SOURCES OF TITUS ANDRONICUS. O

critics have continually harked back, attempting thereby to
explain the presence of a few lines in Titus Andronicus which
seem to them Shaksperian. The evidence of Frances Meres
and of the First Folio they would reconcile with Ravenscroft
by supposing that the popularity of the drama in its revised
form may have led to its being commonly known as " Shak-
spere's Titus Andronicus" as distinguished from the earlier
version, until at length it got to be generally regarded as one
of his original productions. On such a theory, Shakspere's
connection with Titus Andronicus, it will at once be observed,
is a question rather of a few scattered passages than of a

[1678]. ... In the hurry of those distracted times the prologue and epi-
logue were lost. But to let the buyer have his penny-worths, I furnish you
with others." After giving Ravenscroft's own account of his motives in
this prologue it is only fair to quote from a contemporary of Ravenscroft
who has spoken out very decidedly about Ravenscroft's motives in general
and in particular with reference to his avowed connection with Titus
Andronicus. In his Account of the English Dramatick Poets, Oxford, 1691,
pp. 417-22, Langbaine says of Ravenscroft, "A gentleman now living ....
one who with the vulgar passes for a writer ; though I hope he will pardon
me, if I rather style him in the number of wit- collectors ; for I cannot
allow all his wit in his plays to be his own : I hope he will not be angry
for transcribing the character which he has given of Mr. Dryden and
which mutato nomine belongs to himself. 'Tis not that 1 anyways abet Mr.
Dryden for his falling upon his Mammamouchi, but that I may maintain
the character of impartial, to which I pretend, I must pull off his disguise
and discover the politick plagiary that lurks under it. I know he has
endeavored to show himself master of the art of swift-writing, and would
persuade the world that what he writes is ex tempore wit and written currenle
calamo. But I doubt not to show that though he would be thought to imi-
tate the silk-worm that spins its web from its own bowels, yet I shall make
him appear like the leech, that lives upon the blood of men, drawn from
the gums; and when he is rubbed with salt spues it up again. To prove
this I shall only give an account of his plays ; and by that little of my own
knowledge which I shall discover, 'twill be manifest that this Ricketty-
Poet (though of so many years) cannot go without others' assistance." And
p. 464 he says, as to Titus Andronicus: " 'Twas about the time of the Popish-
plot revived and altered by Mr. Ravenscroft. In the preface to the reader
he says: 'That he thinks it a greater theft to rob the dead of their praise
than the living of their money.' Whether his practice agree with his pro-
testation I leave to the comparison of his works with those of Molliere ;

6 HAROLD DE W. FULLER.

thorough-going revision of a given story, such as for instance
we know occurred in the case of most of his other works.

Thus far there is a concurrence of opinion on the part of
all who uphold this theory. But from the Psyche-like task
of sorting out Shakspere's lines from the rest, difficulty and
disagreement have arisen. Perhaps Morley has gone farthest
in the amount of retouching which he imputes to Shakspere's
hand. Thus he would include a meagre mending of old
verses and the insertion of some new ones, beside a slight
recasting of the old material here and there.1 It is not neces-
sary, however, to record the exact lines variously claimed as
Shaksperian. It is enough to say that they represent a very
small percentage of the whole. How very small indeed,

and whether Mr. Shadwell's opinion of plagiaries reach not Mr. Ravenscroft
I leave to the reader. 'I,' says he ingeniously (Preface to Sullen Lovers),
' freely confess my theft and am ashamed on't; though I have the example
of some that never yet wrote a play without stealing most of it : and (like
men that lie so long till they believe themselves) at length by continual
thieving reckon their stolen goods their own too ; which is so ignoble a
thing that I cannot but believe that he, that makes a common practice of
stealing other men's wit, would, if he could with the same safety, steal
anything else.' Mr. Ravenscroft, in the epistle to Titus, says 'that the
play was not originally Shakespear's,' etc. Afterwards he boasts his own
pains and says, ' that if the reader compare the old play with his copy he
will find that none in all that author's works ever received greater altera-
tions, or additions ; the language not only refined but many scenes entirely
new: Besides most of the principal characters heightened, and the plot
much increased.' I shall not engage in this controversy .... but to make
Mr. Ravenscroft some reparation, I will here furnish him with part of his
prologue, which was lost, and, if he desire it, send him the whole :

' To-day the poet does not fear your rage,
Shakespear by him reviv'd now treads the stage :
Under his sacred laurels he sits down
Safe, from the blast of any critic's frown.
Like other poets, he'll not proudly scorn
To own that he but winnow'd Shakespear's corn ;
So far he was from robbing him of 's treasure,
That he did add his own to make full measure.' "

1 English Writers, London, 1893, vol. x, p. 45.

THE SOURCES OP TITUS ANDRONICUS. 7

may be judged from the words of Dowden : "The great
majority of English critics either altogether reject the play ....
or accept as true the tradition of Ravenscroft, that it was
touched by Shakspere, and no more."1 " He may have
retouched it here and there," writes Mabie ; " he can hardly
have done more."2 Again, to quote from Rolfe, "The verdict
of the editors and critics is so nearly unanimous against the
authenticity of the play that the burden of proof clearly rests
with the other side." 3 Indeed, how near this third view may
come to coinciding with that which entirely rejects the drama
we may see from Verity's words : " Titus Andronicus, I
believe, was written by a fifth-rate playwright .... and then
Shakspere gave the work half an hour's revision and — far
more important — his name." 4

From this cursory history of opinion it will be seen that
critics of to-day, with half-a-dozen exceptions, are inclined
to believe that Shakspere had no hand whatever in Titus
Andronicus, or, — what for our purposes will amount to the
same thing, — to hold that he is responsible for only a few
scattered passages ; and further, that those who do accept the
play, relegate it to the colorless period of what has been
termed " Shakspere's apprenticeship." Moreover, we are
forced to admit that the contention as to authorship can never
be decided on purely aesthetic grounds, nor yet from external
evidence alone, since, as we have seen, this in a measure
contradicts itself. Obviously then, agreement can only come
from more definite knowledge of the origin of the play, — for
example, of its sources. If we could only discover them, we
should then be admitted to the author's workshop, — and there
is surely no better place to study his identity.

It has long been thought that an old story of Titus
Andronicus, perhaps taken over from the Spanish or the
Italian, was common property in England as early as 1567.

1 Shakspere: Primer, p. 61. 2 Outlook, June 2, 1900, p. 293.

3 Titus Andronicus, New York, 1892, pp. 15-16.

4 Shakespeare, Irving ed., London, 1890, vol. vii, p. 259.

8 HAROLD DE W. FULLER.

Thus in the introduction to the Variorum Shakspere of 1803
the statement is ascribed to Steevens that Painter in his
Palace of Pleasure, volume n, speaks of Titus Andronicus
as well-known and that he mentions particularly the cruelty
of Tamora.1 Until recently Steevens's statement has gone
unchallenged. It seems, nevertheless, to rest on error.2 But
though no novel3 of Titus Andronicus appears to have

1 Variorum Shakespeare, London, 1803, edited by Johnson and others,
vol. i, B. 2, v°. The first edition of Palace of Pleasure appeared in 1566-7.

2After searching vainly for such a reference in Painter, my attention was
kindly called by Dr. Rolfe to Mr. Herford's note in the Eversley edition of
Titus Andronicus, vol. vii, p. 290, where this error of previous generations
is cited and corrected.

3 There is, however, still extant an old ballad, entitled, "The Lady and the
Blackamoor" (Roxburghe Ballads, vol. ii, pp. 48 ff; printed, also, in Evans'
Old Ballads, vol. iii, pp. 232 ff., with the title "The Cruel Black"), which
may be indirectly connected with the sources of Titus Andronicus. Chappell,
in the Roxburghe collection, gives the following note with regard to it : " The
ballad appears, from incidental notices in plays, to be as old as the reign
of James I., and yet no one of the above-named extant copies can be dated
earlier than the reign of Charles II." But though Chappell is unable to
trace this ballad back to an earlier period, its agreement in several points
with the play of Titus Andronicus is nevertheless significant: (1) The
scene is Rome; (2) the trouble starts in a hunting expedition; (3) there is
a blackamoor bent on revenge; (4) his brutality is relentless and appall-
ing; (5) he beguiles his master of his nose in much the same way that
Aaron gets the hand of Titus ; for instance, he promises to save the lady's
life if her lord will cut off his nose ; — this done, out of pure villany, he
throws her down from the wall and kills her.

After connecting this ballad with the Titus Andronicus fable I discovered
that I had been anticipated by Emil Koeppel who, in Enylische Studien,
1891-2, vol. xvi, pp. 365-374, not only observed the similarity of the
ballad in several respects to the play but traced it back to the year 1569-70.
He found for example in the Stationers' Register, between 22d July, 1569,
and 22d July, 1570, the following entry: "Rd. of Rye. Jonnes, for his
lycense for pryntinge of a history intituled a strange and petiefull novell
dyscoursynge of a noble Lorde and his Lady, w* thayre tragical end of
them and thayre II cheldren executed by a blacke morryon .... IIIId."
See Extracts from the Register of the Stationers' Company of Works entered for
publication between the years 1557-1570, with Notes and Illustrations by J. P.
Collier, London, 1848 (Shakespeare Society), p. 21 1. In this article Koeppel
also shows the practical agreement of the extant ballad with Bandello, Part

THE SOURCES OF TITUS ANDRONICUS.

existed prior to the play, yet when we recall the origin of
most dramas of that time, it is natural to suppose that the
main outlines of the plot were not invented by the author
of the extant text.

Acting upon this supposition, let us for a moment examine
some material which bears upon Titus Andronicus and which
has caused a good deal of speculation. In the first place, there
is a German play entitled, " Eine sehr klagliche Tragoedia
von Tito Andronico und der hoffertigen Kayserin, darinnen
denckwiirdige actiones zubefinden." l This is contained in
the first edition of English Comedies and Tragedies, a collec-
tion of adaptations from English plays that were carried
into Germany and performed there by English actors about
the year 1600. The degenerate condition in which these
dramas remain to us has led to the belief that they must have
suffered a good deal from the rough and ready manner in
which they were adapted to the needs of the German stage.
Thus the dialogue, which at first was probably spoken in

III, 21st Novel: "Uno Schiauo (battuto dal Padrone) ammazza la Padrona
con i figliuoli, e poi se stesso precipita da un' alta Torre." With regard to
this story, as Koeppel observes, Bandello says: "Saperete anchora questa
Historia essere stata latinamente descritta dal gran Pontano." The writ-
ings of Pontano, however, according to Varnhagen (Englische Studien, xix,
p. 163), who has been at great pains to examine them, do not seem to bear
out Bandello's statement. Varnhagen, nevertheless, in an old MS. (No. 234
of the Erlanger Library) dating from the end of the thirteenth or the
beginning of the fourteenth century, has discovered an exemplum which
in substance he believes to be closely related to Bandello's story.

It ought, also, to be noted in this connection that G. Sarrazin (Archiv.f.
n. Sprache, 1896, Bd. 97, pp. 373 ff.) has gone somewhat beyond Koeppel's
theory. Besides Bandello's novel he considers, as a possible source of the
fable, the old Germanic story of Wayland. Thus he would make Aaron
correspond to the captive, crippled Wieland (Volundr), Titus Andronicus
to Niftu'Sr, and Lavinia to Boftvildr. Sarrazin says it is a question whether
this story of the Moor's vengeance was incorporated into our play from the
Italian version, or from a popular form of the saga, which must at that time
have been current in various parts of England. Little weight is to be
ascribed to these guesses.

1 See Albert Cohn's Shakespeare in Germany, London and Berlin, 1865,
pp. 161-236.

10 HAROLD DE W. FULLER.

English, was deemed less important, it would seem, than the
action ; for it was essential that the audience should under-
stand the story with their eyes if not with their ears. As a
consequence, according to the usual opinion, the dialogue may
have been cut short or slighted. Furthermore, the mutilated
state of some of the plays seems to indicate that they were
pirated, or, in other words, taken down by reporters and
filled out as well as might be from memory. After under-
going such treatment, they represent, according to Cohn, no
more than the framework of their English prototypes.1

The German Titus Andronicus, for example (which for
convenience I shall designate as G in contradistinction to S,
Shakspere's Titus Andronieus), is much shorter than S, is
cruder in construction and dialogue, and lacks some of the
important episodes of S. In this particular instance, how-
ever, two things have made critics hesitate to infer that S was
the prototype of G : (1) the great divergence of G from S
in numerous details, and (2) the mention in Henslowe's diary
on April 11, 1591, and several times after that, of a play
(now lost) entitled " tittus and Vespacia." 2 The preservation
of this title has rendered the problem more complex, for it
so happens that in G also two of the principal charac-
ters go by these same names. Albert Cohn long ago faced
this enigma. In his Shakespeare in Germany, he remarks,
" Now in our German Lamentable Tragedy we have the play
in all probability, in a form copied from the first design.

1 Cohn, Shakespeare in Germany, p. cv.

'See The Diary of Philip Henslowe from 1591-1609, ed. by J. P. Collier
for Shakespeare Soc., London, 1845, pp. 24-30. The play is sometimes
entered as "tittus and Vespacia" and sometimes "titus and Vespacia."
Henslowe's spelling is so capricious that we are obliged to judge of his
meaning by the spirit and not the letter. Thus on what amounts to about
one page of his diary he allows his own name to be spelt in four different
ways— none of them right: Henslow, Henchloe, Hinchloe, Hinchlow; see
pp. 158-9. He also writes "palaman and arset" where he clearly means
" Palamou and Arcite." This capriciousness of Henslowe's pen has made
it rather easy for critics to believe that by "tittus and Vespacia" Henslowe
meant Titus and Vespasian.

THE SOURCES OF TITUS ANDRONICUS. 11

But the coarse feeling, which was interested in the mere
external action alone and not in the dramatic development,
has* prevailed in the treatment of this as well as of almost
all the other pieces in the collection, for the principal object
has evidently been to reduce the piece to the smallest possible
compass. . . . We cannot make the original piece responsible
for these absurdities, but if we disregard them, the original

form of Shakespeare's tragedy may still be distinctly seen

to glimmer through." l Then, merely on the strength of the
agreement of Titus and Vespasian in Henslowe with the two
names in G, Cohn reasons : " We may safely assume that this
Vespasian, like all other characters of the German piece, was
taken from the original Titus Andronicus, and thus we should
have to acknowledge that Titus and Vespasian was the original
on which Shakspere's play was founded." This theory, it
will be noted, was advanced tentatively and not as the result
of careful scrutiny ; for a few lines above we read : " Whether
Shakespeare found the piece already in existence and pro-
duced a new version of it, or whether he was the first to treat
this subject at all, is a question .... which probably will
never be decided." It is difficult to make out from Cohn's
language whether or not he regards Titus and Vespasian as a
production of Shakspere's which he afterwards retouched into
the present version of our play. Such may be his meaning,
since some years previous to this he was convinced that Shak-
spere wrote Titus Andronicus and later revised it.2 Kurz3
and Schroer,4 so far as they commit themselves, likewise
favor Titus and Vespasian as the prototype of G. According
to their way of thinking, however, Titus and Vespasian was
a later piece than the first draft of S, which Shakspere, some-
what later, probably revised. The Titus and Vespasian, then,
they suppose was the same as this first draft, except that it
was altered by a rival company in some minor details

1 Shakespeare in Germany, p. cxii. 2Athenceum, 1851, p. 22.
3 Shakespeare Jahrbuch, 1870, pp. 99 ff.
* Uber Titus Andronicus, p. 18.

12 HAROLD DE W. FULLER.

(" Lucius " to " Vespasian," for instance), to avoid the charge
of plagiarism. Dowden,1 Morley,2 Lee,3 Sarrazin,4 and Brandl,5
also, find in G a translation of Titus and Vespasian. Creize-
nach,6 Verity ,7 Herford,8 and Grosart,9 on the contrary, take
exception to so flimsy a theory. As Herford remarks, " The
structure of hypothesis thus erected is of perilous frailty,
and quite incapable of supporting any conclusions," since, as
he goes on to say, the mere title Titus and Vespasian would
seem to indicate a play dealing with the two Emperors,
so-named. All of these last four critics prefer what seems
to them the safer assumption that G is a free and degener-
ate adaptation from S. So Grosart insists : " Throughout,
besides, the successive speeches distinctly echo Titus Androni-
cus and prove that our Titus Andronicus was present to the
translator. ... It seems mere unreason to create another
Titus Andronicus out of Titus and Vespacia" A slightly
modified form of this statement represents the opinion of
conservative critics to-day, who feel that in the absence
of more persuasive evidence to the contrary the safest course
is to call G a free and pitiable version of S.

Before entering into a minute discussion of G, however, it
will be profitable for our purposes to examine another piece
of extant material, which at first glance appears to be strik-
ingly analogous in its origin to G. There still exists an old
Dutch play by one Jan Vos, glass-maker, entitled 10 Aran and

1 Shakspere : Primer, p. 62. 8 English Writers, 1893, vol. x, p. 43.

3 A Life of William Shakespeare, London, 1898, p. 65.

* William Shakespeare's Lehrjahre, Weimar, 1897, pp. 50-51.

5 Qott. Gel. Anz., 1891, pp. 709-10.

6 Die Schauspiele der Englischen Komodianten, 1889, Introduction to T. A.,
p. 5.

7 Shakespeare, Irving ed., vol. vii, p. 258.

8 The Works of Shakespeare, London, 1899, vol. vii, p. 287.

9 Englische Studien, 1896, p. 398.

wAran en Titus, of Wraak en Weerwraak, Amsterdam, 1641. According to
Cohn (Shakespeare in Germany, p. cxiii) not less than eleven editions of
this play had been published by the year 1661. Some of these must have
been pirated, for in the fifth edition, printed in the year 1656, we find the

THE SOURCES OF TITUS ANDRONICUS. 13

Titus, or Revenge and Counter-Revenge, the first edition of
which appeared in 1641. This preserves, with a few modifi-
cations, the Titus Andronicus story of Shakspere ; but what
its direct source was we lack the means of determining.
That our knowledge on this last point is so meagre seems
odd, considering what a furore the play at once created in
Holland. Vos was hailed as the coming genius, not only
of his own age but of all ages. The great Vondel cried out,
" It is a man of wonderful understanding." ] Caspar van
Baerle, a famous Latin scholar and Vos's patron, concluded a
long eulogy in verse with : " Is Sophocles risen from the
dead? Has Aeschylus returned to us again? Or is it
Euripides that makes this unwonted furore? No, it is a
tradesman, an unlettered soul who now outdoes the whole
chorus of Helicon. He who has never sat at a Greek or
Roman feast now shows the world what a tragedy is.
Athene read this play and declared, ' 1 will never write
again, for he, who lightens us with glass, puts the fame of all
of us in the shadow/ " 2 And these are only samples of the
many extravagant plaudits with which Vos was overwhelmed.
Not to enter at too great length into the almost unparal-
leled reception accorded to Aran and Titus, I may add that
the play continued to be popular with the Dutch far down

publisher, Jacob Lescaille, saying : " Inasmuch as this tragedy has several
times been badly printed without the author's knowledge by gainseeking
men, .... let everyone know that the author does not recognize any copy
as his except that printed by Jacob Lescaille " This fifth edition, the only
one accessible to me, I have had collated with the first edition, which
is contained in the British Museum Library. The play is composed in
Alexandrines — often truncated — and to the first four acts choruses, consist-
ing of a "Zang," " Tegen-zang," and "Toe-zang," are subjoined.

1 See W. J. A. Jonckbloet's Geschichte der fliederlandischen Lileratur, Leip-
zig, 1872, vol. ii, p. 281. Here, there is the following quotation from a
letter written, December 15, 1641, by Caspar van Baerle to Huygens:
" Audivit Vondelius, et portentosi ingenii virum dixit."

2 See H. E. Moltzer's Shakspere s Invloed op het Nederlandsch Tooneel der
Zeventiende Eeuw, Groningen, 1874, pp. 8, 9 ; also Introduction to the fifth
edition of Aran en Titus.

14 HAROLD DE W. FULLER.

into the eighteenth century and that even in the middle of
the nineteenth it had not wholly disappeared from the stage.
Beside a Latin translation, which van Baerle l seems to have
prepared for presentation by the boys of his school, one
Danish2 and at least three German3 versions of the story?
according to general acceptance, owed their existence to Vos.
In short, Aran and Titus appears to have been immediate
and far-reaching in its effect. As to the important part
which it played in the history of the Dutch drama, it need
only be said that into the old Senecan tragedy, which was at
that time so popular on the Dutch stage, Aran and Titus
instilled a romantic ferment sufficient to hasten on a new era.
The question how Vos obtained the Titus Andronicus fable
has not been seriously treated, so far as I know, by English
critics. They seem to have taken it for granted that Aran
and Titus (which I shall designate as D, as a symbol for
Dutch) was freely adapted from S. It has remained, there-
fore, for Dutch and German scholars to attempt to decipher
the connection between these two plays. Bilderdijk, who first
called attention to their intimate relation, firmly believed that
Vos used S directly, though, owing to the many points of
difference, he conceded that Vos might have employed a
somewhat curtailed manager's book.4 Half a century later

lAran en Titus. Mulua vindicalio, interprele schola Thielana. Thilae, Apud
Gosuinum d Duym, Bibliopol. Anno cioiocLVin. See J. A. Worp, De
Invloed van Seneca's Treurspelen op ons Tooneel, Amsterdam, 1892, p. 53.

2 Schauspiel von Tito Andronico und der hoffartige Kayserinn und dem Mohr
Aran. This play was performed in Copenhagen by German comedians in
1719. See Die Schauspiele, etc., Introduction, p. 15.

3 In a MS. of the 17th century which contains a collection of German
dramas, Creizenach found under number 11: Titus und Aran; and in the
Weimar index of dramatic works under number 94: Der morderische,
gotthische mohr sampt dessen Fall und End. See Die Schauspiele der Eng.
Kom., Introduction to T. A., p. 15.

There, also, survives a Titus und Tomyris by Hieronymus Thomae, pub-
lished at Giessen in 1661 and said to be an adaptation of Aran and Titus.
4Bydragen tot de Tooneel-poezy, Leyden, 1823, p. 19.

THE SOURCES OF TITUS ANDRONICUS. 15

Loffelt l and Jonckbloet 2 advanced the same theory, though
without any mention of the prompt-book (that convenient
refuge of embarrassed speculation). Vos's inability, however,
to read a foreign language, which is well established from his
own boasting of this ignorance as well as from contemporary
testimony, seems to render this view a trifle hazardous.3 Cohn,
about the middle of the nineteenth century, without giving
his reasons and without indicating the source of G, ventured
the assertion : " Thus, the Dutch Aran en Titus is undoubt-
edly of the same origin as that of Titus Andronicus in the
English Comedies and Tragedies of 1620." 4 About this
time, also, van den Bergh 5 hazarded the guess that Vos had
seen the English actors on the stage and had adapted his
play from their performance. Moltzer 6 fancied that, besides
G, there must have been another adaptation of S which
appeared in Holland and furnished Yos with the material for
D. Worp 7 at first agreed with this, but Creizenach 8 insisted
on a modification. According to the latter's view, G and D
could not possibly have emanated from the same English
text. " For," he observes, " while the German adaptation

1 Nederl. Spectator, 1870, p. 293.

2 Geschichte der Nederl. Lit., vol. ii, p. 289.

3 « mo | n jje SSiyS) « knowledge of languages creates scholars, but not poets ;
it is a bridge which one must cross to borrow a foreign wisdom so that he
may publish it as his own. Poetry is not the daughter of foreign languages,
but the child of a rich spirit, which gushes forth in his thought." See
Jonckbloet, ibid., p. 292.

In the edition of 1656 of Aran en Titus, among a number of recommenda-
tions, occurs the following by Vechters : " Headers, whoever you are, come
and see of what might a soul may be, although he has not been educated
in school. A glass-maker, who knows no language but his mother-tongue,
bedims the fame of nearly all the poets."

4Athenceum, 1850, p. 738.

6 'sOravenhaagsche Bijzonderheden, 1857 ; cited by J. A. Worip.Nederlandsche
Spectator, 1886, No. 41, p. 342.

GShakspere*sInvloed, etc., pp. 30-42.

^Academisch Proefscrifl, Groningen, 1879, pp. 51 ff.

s£erichte der philol. hist. Classe der Konig. Sdch. GeselL, etc., 1886, p. 97.

16 HAROLD DE W. FULLER.

without doubt went back to the play mentioned in Henslowe's
diary under the date of 1591, — in which Titus's sou .... bears
the name Vespasian, — this son with Vos, as in the modern
edition of Shakespeare, is called Lucius." " Now it is not
inconceivable," he goes on to say, " that Vos used an adapta-
tion which stood nearer to Shakespeare than the German
adaptation." But, acting upon this supposition, Oeizenach
was embarrassed by the preservation in D of a number of
points that are not included in G, such as practically all of S,
act iv, scene 1 (where Lavinia alludes to the story of Tereus
and Philomela in Ovid's Metamorphoses), and act ii, scene 3
(the reference to Diana and Actaeon). " This kind of thing,"
according to Creizenach, " could scarcely have come from an
adaptation for the use of the wandering English actors, whose
practice it was to drop from their crude and limited repertoire
the little niceties calculated for distinguished hearers." One
point cited by Creizenach as the only one common to D and
G, but not in S (namely, the confidence entrusted to the audi-
ence that Tamora, out of infatuation for Aran, has killed her
first husband), he explained as a mere coincidence. He found
no cogency in the objection that Vos understood no English,
since in translating the original he may, like other Dutch poets
(particularly Isaak Vos in his use of Spanish), have sought
help. After reading Creizenach's article, Worp altered his
previous opinion. Speaking of D and S he says : " It seems
to me that the difference in the two tragedies is too great to
indicate a direct borrowing. Had Vos been familiar with
Shakespeare's version, .... he would have adhered more
closely to his original. That, indeed, copies of Shakespeare
existed in the middle of the seventeenth century is shown by the
version of The Taming of the Shrtw (1654)." l He dismissed
the possibility that D rests on an adaptation of S, introduced
into Holland by the English Actors, with the remark, " this
tragedy of Vos's seems to me too good in form and too skil-

? Nederlandsche Spectator, 1886, No. 41, pp. 341-2.

THE SOURCES OP TITUS ANDRONICUS. 17

fully put together to have used as its source a mutilated
libretto of the English Actors." Worp then risks another
conjecture, — that Shakspere and Vos drew from the same
source. What the source was he admits he does not know,
though he hints at an Italian novel which, like the story of
FortunatuSj may have been known alike in Holland and
England ; he thinks, therefore, that it may have been used
by Vos and Shakspere independently. Not wholly convinced
by this theory, Worp quotes the following from a Dutch
poem of 1652 called " The spirit of Mattheus Gansneb Teng-
nagel, in the other world with the Dead Poets : " "And her
father [the father of the actress Adriana van den Bergh], the
illustrious actor, in his youth was the first to present upon
the Dutch stage Jeronimo of Spain, and young Polidorus, and
Andronicus, which even now lives vividly in my memory." 1
Van den Bergh's Jeronimo, based upon the Spanish Tragedy,
or at least on the English Actors' version of it, belongs to
the year 1621, but unfortunately the Andronicus is no longer
extant. In consequence, Worp does not feel sure that this
non-extant play was not after all the source of D. Creize-
nach's comment on Worp's article appeared some three years
later. He attempted to show that Worp's first hypothesis —
that of a common source for D and S — was rendered unten-
able by the presence in D of Shaksperian tricks of style;
against the second hypothesis, which assumed a borrowing by
Vos from van den Bergh, he naturally had nothing tangible
to oppose.2

Such, then, are the opinions which have thus far been
entertained with regard to the relation between G and D and
S. One more version of the Titus Andronicus story, how-
ever, ought here to be briefly considered before we undertake

1 Inasmuch as this old play of Andronicus is lost and would not, anyhow,
affect the theory which is later proposed in this paper, I shall dismiss it
with this brief notice.

8 Die Schauspiele der Englischen Komodianlen, Introduction to T. A., p. 11,
note.

18 HAROLD DE W. FULLER.

for ourselves a careful study of G and D. It is yet another
German version. Unhappily, the play itself no longer sur-
vives, except in a Program1 which bears witness to a
performance — probably at Linz — in the year 1699. A very
comprehensive outline of the plot, which is preserved in
the Program, seemed nevertheless according to Cohn 2 to
indicate a close translation of D, since it appeared that
in all, save one or two details, the lost play must have
been identical with D. This idea, moreover, was further
strengthened by the knowledge that a German, George
Greflinger, in 1650 had planned to translate, among other
Dutch plays,3 one called "Andronicus mit dem Aaron."
Creizenach 4 and Schroer,5 however, were deterred from this
hasty inference by the existence in this Program of the name
Lavinia — the daughter of Titus — which agrees with S as
against the name Rozelyna in D. They fancied, therefore,
that beside G there may have been current in Germany an
adaptation of S, following its original more closely than G.

To facilitate, now, our own investigation of the inter-
dependence between G, D, S, and the version represented by
the Program, it may be well for us to examine the plots
of the first three plays, — supplementing D in case of differ-
ence by the Program.

1 The title of this play is Raache gegen Raache oder der streitbare Homer,
Titus Andronicus. A reprint of the Program, edited by Albert Cohn, is to
be found in the Shakespeare Jahrbuch, 1888, pp. 266-81.

2 Shakespeare Jahrbuch, 1888, p. 269.

3 Berichle, etc., 1886, p. 105. In the introduction to his translation of the
Oid of Corneille, Greflinger promised that Der Bekldgliche Zwang, Laura,
and Andronicus mit dem Aaron were to follow. Lope de Vega's Fuerza
Lastimosa had been translated by Isaak Vos in 1648, under the title of De
Beklagelijke Dwang ; and Greflinger's Laura recalls Lope's Laura Perseguida,
a translation of which had appeared in Holland by 1645.

*Die Schauspiele, etc., p. 15. 5 Uber Titus Andronicus, p. 17.

THE SOURCES OF TITUS ANDRONICUS.

•19

DRAMATIS PERSON AE.

GERMAN, 1620.
The Roman Emperor.

Consort of Andronica.

Victoriades,

brother to Titus.
Titus Andronicus.

Vespasian, Son to Titus.

Helicates, -» Sons to
Saphonus, J jEtiopissa.
Morian, a Moor, beloved
by jEtiopissa.

White Guards.

JEtiopissa,

Queen of Ethiopia.
Andronica,

daughter to Titus.

SHAKSPERE.

Saturninus,

son to the late Em-
peror of Rome.

brother to Saturni-
nus.

Marcus Andronicus,
brother to Titus.

Titus Andronicus,
a noble Roman.

Lucius, ~]
Quintus, ! sons to
Martius, j Titus.
Mutius, J

Young Lucius,

son to Lucius.
Publius, son to Marcus.
Sempronius, . Kingmen

Caius' . f to Titus.

Valentine, J

jEmilius,

a noble Roman.

Alarbus> ) sons to
Demetrius, I Tam()ra

Chiron, J
Aaron, a Moor,

beloved by Tamora.

A Captain,Tribune, Mes-
senger, and Clown.

Goths and Romans.

Tamora,

Queen of the Goths.

Lavinia,

daughter to Titus.

DUTCH, 1641.

Saturninus, the Roman
Emperor.

Bassianus,

brother to the Em-
peror.

Marcus Andronicus,
brother to Titus.

Titus Andronicus,

General of the Ro-

Sons to
Titus.

Lucius,
Pollander,
Mel an us,
K laud ill us,
Gradamard,
Askanius

little son to Lucius.

Quiro, J Thamera.
Aran, a Moor, General of

the Goths, beloved

by Thamera.
Tacitus, a Messenger.

Thamera,

Queen of the Goths.
Rozelyna,1

daughter to Titus.

1 In the Linz Program the daughter of Titus is called Lavinia, as in
Shakspere.

HAROLD DE W. FULLER.

GERMAN, 1620.

Midwife,

and a black Child.

ACT I.

Vespasian, carrying in
his hand the Koman
Crown, suggests that
Titus, in return for his
brave deeds in the wars
with the Ethiopians, be
crowned Emperor. The
oldest son of the late
emperor demurs and
puts forward his own
claims.

SHAKSPEKE.

A Nurse,

and a black Child.

Senators, Tribunes, Offi-
cers, Soldiers, and
Attendants.

ACT I.

There is a dispute be-
tween Saturninus and
Bassianus as to who
shall be Emperor. Sa-
turninus claims tbe
right, on the ground
of primogeniture; Bas-
sianus defends election,
the midst of this
quarrel, Marcus, enter-
ng, announces that the
>eople have chosen Titus
o be their emperor, as
a reward for his warlike
leeds against the Goths.
The two brothers there-
fore dismiss their fol-
owers.

DUTCH, 1641.

Koman l Counsellors
and Judges.

Four Officers.1

Philippus.1

Kamillus.1

Chorus of:1
Roman Citizens, Tem-
plars, Goths, Koman
"loffren," "Andro-
nizenzer loffren."

Leeuwemond, Priest and
Soothsayer.

Quintus,1 Page to Aran.

ACT I.

1 Not mentioned in the Program.

THE SOURCES OF TITUS ANDRONICUS.

GERMAN, 1620.

Titus, crowned with a
laurel wreath, is on the
stage at the outset, and
with him are his prison-
ers of war: the Ethio-
pian queen, her two
sons, and her paramour,
Morian.

Titus, after being pro-
claimed Emperor, re-

SHAKSPERE.

A captain announces
Titus's return from the
war. Titus then enters
amid great acclamation,
bringing with him as
captives the Gothic
queen, her three sons,
and her paramour, Aa-
ron ; also a coffin, con-
taining the bodies of
his sons, slain in the
war.

He then addresses an
apostrophe to Rome :
"Hail, Rome, victori-
ous in thy mourning
weeds!" etc.
Lucius demands that
the proudest prisoner
of the Goths be sacri-
ficed " ad manes fra-
trum," so as to ensure
them an eternal rest.
Titus accordingly names
Alarbus, and remains
kind though unyielding
to Tamora's entreaties.
The sacrifice occurs off
the stage.

Titus addresses an elo-
quent farewell to his
dead sons, as they are
laid in the tomb, be-
ginning, " In peace and
honor rest you here,
my sons ; " Marcus an-
nounces to Titns that the
latter has been elected
Emperor.

Titus, however, depre-
cates the honor, because

DUTCH, 1641.

Saturninus eulogizes
Rome in her present
security, now that Titus
has subdued the Goths.
He remarks on the
popular acclamations
that greet Titus for his
valiant deeds in war.
Titus enters with his
prisoners : the Gothic
queen, her two sons,
and her paramour Aran.
He, then, addresses an
apostrophe to Rome,
beginning : " O Rome,
kingdom of fame ! " etc.

Aran, the General of
the Goths, it is decreed
by Titus, must be sacri-
ficed by the priest's axe
to the god Mars.

A long and tiresome dis-
cussion ensues, in which
Thamera and her two
sons plead for Aran's
life and persuade Satur-
ninus, who meanwhile
has become infatuated
with Thamera, to do
likewise. The priest,
Titus, and Marcus, how-
ever, insist on the sacri-
fice.

HAROLD DE W. FULLER.

GERMAN, 1620.

fuses the honor because
of his great age, and
places the crown on
Saturninus's head.

Shouts of approval.
Saturninus returns
thanks for this favor,
and to show his grati-
tude chooses Andronica
to be his Empress.
Titus presents his pris-
oners of war to the
Emperor.

In accepting them the
Emperor says to JSti-
opissa: "Therefore
grieve not and repine
not, but be of good
cheer."

Act II, beginning.
[The Emperor tells ^Eti-
opissa that he has re-
turned Andronica to
her father with the
message that his heart
has changed; that he
now prefers to have
uEtiopissa for his em-

SHAKSPERE.

of his advanced age,
and, securing from the
people the right to name
his successor, he pro-
poses Saturninus.
A long flourish.
Saturninus returns him
thanks for this favor,
and to show his grati-
tude chooses Lavinia to
be his Empress.
Titus presents his pris-
oners of war to the
Emperor.

In accepting them Sa-
turninus says to Ta-
mora: "Clear up, fair
queen, that cloudy coun-
tenance."

Saturninus courts Ta-
mora in dumb-show.

Bassianus, who was pre-
viously betrothed to La-
vinia, kidnaps her from
the very presence of
Titus and Saturninus.
Marcus and the sons
of Titus espouse Bassia-
nus's cause ; and Mutius,
in attempting to prevent
his father from pursu-
ing, is struck down by
the latter and killed.
The delay caused by
this fatality gives the
lovers a chance to es-

DUTCH, 1641.

Saturninus bids Bassia-
nus conciliate Thamera
by means of wind in-
struments and string
instruments, accompa-
nied by clear voices.

THE SOURCES OF TITUS ANDRONICUS.

GERMAN, 1620.

Thereupon, he places
the crown upon the
latter's head and pro-
claims her Empress.]

SHAKSPERE.

cape and to be mar-
ried.

Saturninus takes this
whole proceeding as an
affront, prearranged by
Titus and his family.
But he soon indulges
his infatuation for Ta-
mora by persuading her
to become his empress.
They withdraw to the
Pantheon to solemnize
the " spousal rites."
After considerable dis-
cussion, Marcus and the
surviving sons of Titus
prevail upon Titus to
allow Mutius to be
buried in the family
tomb.

Bassianus returns with
his bride, Lavinia ; like-
wise, Saturninus with
Tamora. At the urgent
entreaty of Tamora, who
in a side-remark to Sa-
turninus promises later
to join him in avenging
his affront, the house
of Titus is officially for-
given.

DUTCH, 1641.

Saturninus, who has
been wooing Thamera
during most of the act
in a give-and-take dia-
logue and who has
promised to spare Aran's
life, provided Thamera
will requite his love,
still receives no encour-
agement from Thamera ;

HAROLD DE W. FULLER.

GERMAN, 1620.

Act III, beginning.
[In honor of the Em-
peror and his bride,
Titus arranges a stag
hunt for the morrow.]

Act I, end.

[Because his mistress is
in favor with the Em-
peror and is likely to
be advanced to the sta-
tion of empress, Morian
throws off his black
outer mantle and dis-
plays himself richly
dressed. He boasts
loudly and obscenely of
his previous relations
with JEtiopissa and
vows, in case she be-
comes Empress, to make
a cuckold of the Em-
peror.

He declares, further,
that, to make his own
relations with JEtio-
pissa more secure, the
latter has poisoned her
first husband in a cup
of wine.

In this same monologue
Morian boasts of his

SHAKSPERE.

To show his gratitude,
Titus invites Saturni-
nus to hunt with him,
on the morrow, the
panther and the hart.

Act IT.

Aaron, in a very poetic
monologue, comments
on the high station to
which his mistress has
been advanced, and
boasts somewhat of his
intimate relations with
her. " I will be bright,"
he says, "and shine in
pearl and gold, To wait
upon this new-made
Empress." He prophe-
sies that Tamora will
charm Saturn inus and
then wreck him and his
commonweal.

DUTCH, 1641.

and the courting and
the proposed sacrifice
are at length cut short
by the hurried en-
trance of Lucius, who
announces that a boar,
twice the usual size, is
running amuck along
the banks of the Tiber.
All set out in pursuit
of it.

A chorus, consisting of a
" Zang," " Tegenzang,"
and "Toezang," follows,
expatiating on the power
of Love.

Act II, (6) !
In a dialogue with Aran
Thamera mentions hav-
ing killed, at Aran's
instigation, her first
husband, so that her
relations with the Moor
might be less danger-

Act I.

When asked by Satur-
ninus who he is, Aran

1 The letters a, 6, etc., indicate the order in which the events follow
one another.

THE SOURCES OF TITUS ANDRONICUS.

GERMAN, 1620.

prowess in war, assert-
ing that he has rightly
merited the name of
" The Lightning and
Thunder of Ethiopia ; "
and he adds that he
had never been un-
horsed in battle until
he met with Titus.]

Act II,

Helicates and Saphonus
quarrel over Andronica.
Morian separates them
repeatedly. At length
he pacifies them by sug-
gesting that they kill
Andronica's husband
and then ravish her.

Act III.

Preparations for the
hunt. Horns and trum-
pets are heard. Titus
begins a monologue
with, "O how sweetly

SHAKSPERE.

Aaron's monologue is
interrupted by the en-
trance of Demetrius and
Chiron, who fall out
over Lavinia and carry
on a hot quarrel. Aaron
separates them, but to
no purpose. Finally
they are prevailed upon
by the device which he
suggests — namely, that
during the hunt they
shall ravish Lavinia in
the forest.

Act II, Scene 2.
Preparations for the
hunt. Horns and the
cry of hounds are heard.
Titus begins a mono-
logue with, "The hunt

DUTCH, 1641.

replies: "One whom
the sharp-edged steel
as well delights as you
the sceptre. I am the
Gothic God of Arms,
who did terrorize the
Roman army with the
thunderings of my voice,
with the lightnings of
mine eyes." [The mono-
logue, found in G and
S, however, is lacking.]

Act II, (a)

[Quiro and Demetrius
quarrel over Rozelyna.
By way of reconciling
them, A ran tries to per-
suade them both to
ravish her. They are
aghast at the idea until
A ran feigns that their
father's ghost is present
on the stage, urging
them to avenge the foul
death which Titus in
battle inflicted on him
with a poisoned sword.
This ruse brings them
to terms.

To meet their fear that
Rozelyna may betray
them, Aran suggests
that they tear out her
tongue and cut off her
hands.

There is hurried prepa-
ration for the hunt.
The hounds are loosed,
and all hasten to the
forest.]

HAROLD DE W. FULLER.

GERMAN, 1620.

and pleasantly the birds
do sing in the air; and
the hunt has likewise
commenced in joy and
splendor."

[Morian is angry at
finding ^Etiopissa walk-
ing alone in the forest.
She bids him, however,
not to chide her and
tries to entice him into
lechery; but he answers :
" My lovely Empress, if
you are under the in-
fluence of the goddess
Venus, I am ruled and
mastered by the god
Mars."]

(a)

[Andronica and her
husband, entering, jeer
at jEtiopissa — being
provoked to it by the

SHAKSPERE.

is up, the morn is bright
and grey ; The fields are
fragrant and the woods
are green."

Act II, Scene 3.
In a lonely part of the
forest Aaron buries a
bag of gold, which he
informs the audience is
to serve him in an "ex-
cellent piece of villany."
Tamora then enters and
tries to entice Aaron into
lechery, but he answers :
" Madam, though Venus
governs your desires, Sa-
turn is dominator over
mine." He further in-
forms her of his device,
already on foot, to kill
Bassianus and mutilate
Lavinia.

He then drops a letter,
which is to incriminate
two of Titus's sons, and
which he tells her she
is to pick up and hand
to the King.

Lavinia and Bassianus,
entering, jeer at Tamora
aotli because she is un-
riccompanied and be-

DUTCH, 1641.

[In declaring his plat-
form of villany to Tha-
mera, Aran informs her
that he has buried near
a pit a helmet of gold,
which is to incriminate
the two youngest sons
of Titus.]

(a)

[Alone in the forest
with Thamera, Aran re-
viles her angrily for
inconstancy to him and
lechery with the Em-
peror. She pacifies him,
however, by bidding him
kill the Emperor, if he
will. He replies that
this must not be done
too hastily, and then
apprises her of his
scheme, which is first
to ruin the house of
Titus. He shows her,
also, a letter, which
he has fabricated to
incriminate the two
youngest sons of Titus,
and which he is going
to drop near a pit.]

Rozelyna and Bassianus,
entering just in time to
see Aran withdrawing,
jeer at Thamera because

THE SOURCES OF TITUS ANDRONICUS.

GERMAN, 1620.

latter — because she is
unfurnished of her re-
tinue ; — no mention is
made of her relations
with the Moor. Heli-
cates and Saphonus
enter and, according to
jEtiopissa's bidding,
stab Andronica's hus-
band and carry her off
to ravish her, in spite
of her pitiful pleading
to spare her life, or to
kill her, in case they
intend defilement of
her person.]

SHAKSPERE.

cause of her relations
with Aaron. At this
uncture, Chiron and
Demetrius enter and,
according to Tamora's
bidding, stab Bassianus,
throw his body into a
pit, and carry Lavinia
off to ravish her, in
spite of her pitiful
pleading to spare her
life, or to kill her, in
case they intend defile-
ment of her person.

Aaron directs Quintus
and Martius to a pit,
where he says he has
seen the panther fast
asleep. Martius falls
into the pit, and, while
Quintus is vainly try-
ing to extricate him,
Aaron rushes off to
fetch the rest of the
party, who arrive just
in time to see Quintus,
also, fall into the pit.
Tamora hands to Sa-
turninus the letter,
which Titus has picked
up. It is an anony-
mous letter, directing
Quintus and Martius to
dig the grave for Bas-
sianus and to look for
their reward by the
elder tree. The gold
which is subsequently
discovered, substantiates

DUTCH, 1641.

of her relations with
the Moor. A long,
vituperative dialogue
ensues between Tha-
mera and Rozelyna.
There is no surprise
vinced at Thamera's
being unfurnished of
her retinue. She calls
for help, and Quiro and
Demetrius, rushing in,
according to Thamera's
bidding stab Bassianus,
hang his body on some
bushes, and carry Roze-
lyna off to ravish her.
Klaudillus and Grada-
mard, in search of the
boar, are urged on by
Thamera, who says that
the boar has fallen into
a pit. A ran then pushes
them both in, and at
length they suffocate.
The rest of the party
arrive at this moment,
as if by magic, in time
to hear the dying groans
of the two victims.
Titus hands to the
Emperor the intrigu-
ing letter, which he has
picked up. It is written
to the two youngest sons
of Titus, apparently by
the murderers, whom
they have bribed with
the golden helmet to
kill Klaudillus and
Gradamard, and also
Bassianus. The helmet,

HAROLD DE W. FULLER.

GERMAN, 1620.

Act IV.

Titus is astounded to
learn that his two sons
are imprisoned and con-
demned to death on the
charge of having grossly
insulted the Empress.

In a short speech Vic-
toriades laments the
woful plight of his
niece, Andronica, whom
he meets in the forest —

SHAKSPERE.

the proposed villany.
In consequence, Quin-
tus and Martius are
dragged off to prison to
await their execution.

In a long and effective
speech Marcus laments
the woful plight of La-
vinia, whom he meets
in the forest — handless
and tongueless.

Act III, Scene 1.
Titus pleads before the
tribunes for the lives
of his two sons : " Hear
me, grave fathers! . . .
For pity of mine age,
whose youth was spent
In dangerous wars whilst
you securely slept, For
all my blood in Rome's
great quarrel shed," etc.

DUTCH, 1641.

which is subsequently
discovered, substantiates
the proposed villany.
In consequence, Satur-
ninus orders Pollander
and Melanus to be ar-
rested.

Another charge, also,
on which Pollander
and Melanus are appre-
hended is gross inso-
lence and insulting
violence towards Tha-
mera, when she was
alone in the forest, —
a charge fabricated by
Aran and her, and at
once borne out by the
sword of one of the
culprits, which, as Aran
asserts, fell from its
owner's side as he fled.

Act III.

In a short speech Mar-
cus laments the woful
plight of Rozelyna,
whom he meets in the
forest — handless and
tongueless.

Titus pleads before the
tribunes for the lives of
his two sons: "Then
let my deeds which I
performed in behalf of
Rome convert your
cruelty to favor. A
proud boaster am I not ;
but who can bury in
silence the heroic deeds

THE SOURCES OF TITUS ANDRONICUS.

GERMAN, 1620.

[Victoriades brings in
Andronica, and Titus
is distracted at the
woful sight.]

(a)

[At this point, Morian
enters with the message
that the Empress will
spare the lives of Titus's
two sons, if Titus will
cut off his hand and
send it to her.

SHAKSPERE.

Stage direction : Titus
lieth down ; the judges,
etc., pass by him and
exeunt.

Lucius announces that
he has been doomed to
everlasting banishment
because he tried to res-
cue his brothers. Titus
felicitates him on being
released from such a
wilderness of tigers.
Marcus brings in La-
vinia, and Titus is dis-
tracted at the woful
sight.

At this point, Aaron
enters with the fabri-
cated message that the
Emperor will spare the
lives of Titus's two
sons, if Titus, Marcus,
or Lucius will cut off
his hand and send it
to the Emperor.

DUTCH, 1641.

which Titus relates?"
Marcus : " Andronicus,
stand up." Titus: "I
must not let the prince
go, until 1 have ob-
tained favor for my
sons." Marcus : "An-
dronicus, stand up ; the
judges have gone." And
in a passage at the end
of Act II, just preced-
ing this last quotation,
Titus contrasts, at tre-
mendous length, Rome's
present wickedness with
her former virtue.
A chorus, following this
second act, philoso-
phizes on the same
theme.

It develops later in the
act that Lucius has been
banished from Home on
the charge of being a
traitor and of being the
third murderer. Titus
pities him, as if this
were a calamity.
Marcus brings in Roze-
lyna, and Titus is dis-
tracted at the woful
fight.

At this point, Aran
enters with the fabri-
cated message that the
Emperor will spare the
lives of Titus's two sons,
if Titus will cut off his
hand and send it to the
Emperor.

HAROLD DE W. FULLER.

GERMAN, 1620.

In a monologue Morian
informs the audience
that the Empress is be-
guiling Titus of his
hand, so that he may
never be able to over-
throw Rome.]

[A dispute then follows
as to which of the three
— Titus, Victoriades, or
Vespasian — shall suffer
the required sacrifice —
this in spite of the fact
that only the hand of
Titus is demanded.
While Vespasian and
Victoriades are gone in
search of an axe, Titus
disappears and soon
returns with his own
hand cut off.]

[After the hand has
been returned to him in
scorn, Titus eulogizes it

SHAKSPERE.

A dispute then follows
as to which of the three
shall suffer the required
sacrifice. While Lucius
and Marcus are gone in
search of an axe, Titus
has Aaron cut off his
hand for him.

As he gives the hand to
Aaron, Titus eulogizes it
in a few eloquent words.

DUTCH, 1641.

[In the Linz program
Aran informs the audi-
ence that the Emperor
is beguiling Titus of
his hand, so that he
may never again be
able to perform warlike
deeds. This informa-
tion, however, is lack-
ing in D.]

In a very, very long
speech Aran also tells
how, on the scene of
the execution, there
appeared an appari-
tion, in form like
Venus, who interceded
for the victims ; he says
that this accounts for
the Emperor's miti-
gated demand.
Although only the hand
of Titus is demanded,
Marcus and Lucius
insist on suffering the
sacrifice. Amid the
wrangling, however,
Titus chops off his own
hand and gives it to
Aran.

As he gives the hand
to Aran, Titus eulogizes
it in a long speech.

THE SOURCES OF TITUS ANDRONICUS.

GERMAN, 1620.

in a speech somewhat
longer than in S.]

(c)

[Mori an soon returns,
bringing back the hand
and also the heads of
the two sons. The
trickery is hence re-
vealed.]

Act V, (c)

[In this act, where they
take the oath of ven-
geance, we find this stage
direction : " Titus takes
up his hand, raises it,
and looks up to heaven,
sighs, mutters, vows,"
etc.]

[They therefore swear
to revenge the villany —
Titus by the head and
hand, and finally by
Andronica.]

(d)

[Vespasian here de-
parts, at his father's re-
quest, to collect a large

SHAKSPERE.

When Aaron departs,
Titus, half-crazed with
grief, resorts to ex-
travagant metaphors.

A messenger soon en-
ters, bringing back the
hand and also the heads
of the two sons. The
trickery is hence re-
vealed ; and T i t u s ' s
utterances become still
more tinged with lunacy
as the scene progresses.
"O, here I lift this one
hand up to heaven,"
he moans, "And bow
this feeble ruin to the
earth ; If any power
pities wretched tears,
To that I call!"
" For these two heads,"
he continues, "do seem
to speak to me, And
threat me I shall never
come to bliss Till all
these mischiefs be re-
turned again, Even in
their throats that have
committed them. . . You
heavy people circle me
about, That I may turn
me to each one of you,
And swear unto my soul
to right your wrongs. "
Lucius here departs, at
his father's request, to
collect a large army of

DUTCH, 1641.

When A ran departs,
Titus, wholly crazed
with grief, raves like a
madman.

Aran's page soon enters,
bringing back the hand
and also the heads of
the two sons. The
trickery is hence re-
vealed ; and Titus fairly
out-Herods Herod, to
the extent of several
pages: one moment he
imagines that he is
reconciled to the Em-
peror; the next he pic-
tures himself on the
gallows, just ready to
swing.

The two heads actually
speak, urging venge-
ance, and the ghosts of
the other murdered sons
echo the oath, which
they all take, in much
the same way that the
ghost in Hamlet does.
Just before this, Titus,
by way of lament, has
taken up in turn the
various calamities that
have befallen his house-
hold.

Lucius here departs, at
his father's request, to
collect the troops and

HAROLD DE W. FULLER.

GERMAN, 1620.

army and march back
on Rome.]

(a)

[Vespasian spreads sand
on the floor so that An-
dronica may write the
name of the man who
has ruined her. Titus
teaches her how to
manage it. She writes:
"Helicates and hunt,"
and, on being questioned
if Helicates and Sapho-
nus have misused her

SHAKSPEBE.

Goths and march back
on Rome.

Act III, Scene 2.
Titus, Marcus, Lavinia,
and young Lucius sit
down to a banquet, at
which Titus appears
half-crazed from grief.
This scene is in neither
of the first two quartos
of Titus Andronicus, but
it is included in the
First Folio.

Act IV, Scene 1.

Young Lucius enters,
running. He carries
some books and is pur-
sued by Lavinia. The
latter turns over with
her stumps the pages
of Ovid's Metamorpho-
ses, until she comes to
the tale of Tereus and
Philomela. To extract
further information
from her, Marcus teaches
her how to write on the
sand with a staff. She
writes : " Stuprum. Chi-
ron. Demetrius."

DUTCH, 1641.

put them in readiness
for revenge.

The chorus, at the end
of Act III, expatiates
on abstract justice and
then describes the exe-
cution-scene of Titus's
two sons.

Act IV.

Young Askanius enters,
running. He carries
Ovid's Metamorphoses,
which Rozelyna is try-
ing to get away from
him. She points to the
tale of Tereus and
Philomela, from which
Titus reads a passage.
To extract further in-
formation from her,
Marcus teaches her
how to write on the
sand with a staff. She
writes : "At the instiga-
tion of Thamera, Aran's
mistress, Rozelyna has
been ruined by Quiro
and his brother, Deme-
trius."

THE SOURCES OF TITUS ANDRONICUS.

GERMAN, 1620.

in the recent hunt, she
nods. She also impli-
cates the Empress.]

Act VI.

At this juncture, a
midwife enters, carry-
ing a black babe, the
offspring of M o r i a n
and JEtiopissa, whom
the latter wishes to have
concealed, because its
swarthy hue would be-
tray its origin. Sapho-

SHAKSPERE.

Young Lucius swears
vengeance on the vil-
lains.

Titus: "Come, go with
me into mine armory ;
Lucius, I'll fit thee ; and
withal my boy Shall
carry from me to the
Empress' sons Presents
that I intend to send
them both. Come,
come; thou'lt do thy
message, wilt thou not ?"
Young Lucius : " Ay,
with my dagger in their
bosoms, grandsire."

Act IV, Scene 2.
Young Lucius then car-
ries a bundle of weapons,
with verses — one from
Horace — tied up in
them, to Chiron and De-
metrius,— the presents
of Titus. Aaron, in sev-
eral asides to the au-
dience, interprets the
double meanings of the
verses and hints at an
impending calamity.
At this juncture, a nuise
enters, carrying a black
babe, the offspring of
Aaron and Tarn or a,
whom the latter wishes
to have killed, because
its swarthy hue would
betray its origin. De-
metrius is about to

DUTCH, 1641.

Askanius's protestations
of courage are carried
to much greater length
than in S. He desires
to be fitted out with
armor and says: "Oh,
only give me a sword
and I will cut the cruel
bellies out of the vil-
lains."

HAROLD DE W. FULLEK.

GERMAN, 1620.

nus is on the point of
killing it, when Morian
rushes in and snatches
the babe away. The
midwife tells Morian
that the Empress wishes
to have the child carried
off to Mt. Thaurin,
where Morian's father
lives. Morian agrees to
take it there ; and then,
to prevent the secret
from leaking out, he
kills the midwife.
After taking these pre-
cautions, he sets out for
Mt. Thaurin, meanwhile
crooning to his babe:
. . . . " Cheese of dog's
milk with water shall
be thy food, till thou
canst walk. I will put
thee to all kinds of ex-
ercises, that thou mayst
become hardy, and learn
how to fight bravely
and to tear up a coat
of mail with thy hands,
like myself," etc. —
much longer than in S.
Although this arrow-
shooting scene does not
actually occur on the
stage, it is referred to
later by the Emperor.
See Act vii, Cohn, p.
224: " Yesterday in de-
fiance of me he shot my
imperial palace full of

SHAKSPERE.

" broach the tadpole on
his rapier's point," when
Aaron intervenes and
arranges to substitute
a child of one of
his countrymen, and
thereby to deceive the
Emperor. Furthermore,
to prevent this secret
from leaking out, he
kills the nurse and
plots the death of the
midwife.

After taking these pre-
cautions, he sets out for
the Goths, meanwhile
crooning to his babe:
" I'll make you feed on
berries and on roots,
And feast on curds and
whey, and suck the
goat, And cabin in a
cave, and bring you up
To be a warrior and
command a camp."

Act IV, Scene 3.
Titus, being madly dis-
tracted, has Publius,
Marcus, and others join
him in shooting arrows
to Pallas, Mercury, Sat-
urn, and other gods ; the
arrows are attached to
notes, urging the gods
to send Justice, who has
disappeared, back to
earth again.

DUTCH, 1641.

THE SOURCES OF TITUS ANDRONICUS.

GERMAN, 1620.

Act V, end.

[Titus then employs a
messenger to deliver to
the Emperor a sword
and a letter of defiance,
in which he has folded
a razor.

The messenger delivers
his insulting presents
and is ordered to be
hanged for his pains.]

Act Vli.

"Beat of drums and
flourish of trumpets.
Vespasian approaches
Home with his army,
having made great
havoc and desolated
all the cities of the
Romans."

The Emperor's courage
sinks, and he sees no
hope ahead, unless
jEtiopissa can bewitch
Titus.

Morian and his babe
are captured by a
soldier and delivered
to Vespasian, who is

SHAKSPERE.

Titus then employs a
clown, who is carrying
a basket of pigeons, to
deliver to the Emperor
a letter of defiance, in
which he has folded a
knife.

Act IV, Scene 4.
Saturninus finds the
arrows and is worried
by the contents of the
notes. Tamora, how-
ever, cheers him up
with the promise that
she will successfully
manage Titus.
The clown delivers his
insulting presents and
is ordered to be hanged
for his pains.

News arrives that Lu-
cius is approaching
with a large army of
Goths.

The Emperor's courage
sinks, but Tamora again
cheers him with the
promise that she will
bewitch Titus.

Act V, Scene 1.
Aaron and his babe are
captured by a soldier
and delivered to Lucius,
who is eager to kill

DUTCH, 1641.

Act III.

[Lucius, who is muster-
ing an army, overhears
a conversation between
Aran and Thamera's

HAROLD DE W. FULLER.

GERMAN, 1620.

eager to kill them at
once. But M o r i a n
promises, provided Ves-
pasian will spare his
life, to disclose the past
villany. Vespasian en-
gages to do so, and then
Morian recounts the
treachery which has
wrought the downfall
of the Andronici. Ves-
pasian, however, breaks
his promise, and, though
at Morian's request he
spares the child, he
orders Morian to be
hanged.

Enter the Empress and
her two sons, all three
in disguise. The Em-
press informs Titus that
the gods have sent these
men to assist him in his
wars. According to the
Empress' scheme, they
are to discover the plans
of Titus and, if possible,
assassinate him and Ves-
pasian.

[Act VIII, beginning.
A messenger announces
to the Emperor and
Empress that Titus in-
vites them to a banquet
to celebrate the eternal

SHAKSPERE.

them at once. But
Aaron promises, pro-
vided only Lucius will
spare the child's life, to
disclose the past vil-
lany. Lucius swears to
do so, and then Aaron
recounts, with gruesome-
ness yet with decency,
both the treachery
which has wrought the
downfall of the An-
dronici, and also his
many other villanies
in the past.

Act V, Scene 2.
Tamora and her two
sons disguise them-
selves as Revenge, Kape
and Murder, and, trust-
ing to Titus's lunacy,
get him to enlist their
services. He bids them
kill all persons who are
like themselves.

His pretended joy at
Tamora's coming finds
expression in these
words: "O sweet Re-
venge, now do I come
to thee; And, if one
arm's embracement will
content thee, I will em-
brace thee in it by and
by." Tamora then
persuades Titus to sum-

DUTCH, 1641.

two sons which reveals
the guilt of all three.
He captures Aran, but
the sons escape. Aran
then recites with gross-
est obscenity both the
treachery which has
wrought the downfall
of the Andronici, and
also his many other
villanies in the past.]

Thamera and her two
sons, in the guise of
Revenge and her at-
tendants, trusting to
Titus's lunacy, inform
him that it is Lucius
who has worked his
father's downfall.

Titus pretends to be
overjoyed at Thamera's
coming, and, feigning
love for her, wooes her
in a speech which is too
obscene to quote.
He begs her, further,
to invite the Emperor
and Empress to his
house, since he has
business of importance

THE SOURCES OF TITUS ANDRONICUS.

GERMAN, 1620.

peace which he desires
to be established be-
tween himself and the
Court.]

(a)

[yEtiopissa departs,leav-
ing her two sons in the
service of Titus.

Titus then cuts their
throats, preserving the
blood in a basin.]

Titus, dressed like a
cook, welcomes his

SHAKSPERE.

mon Lucius to a ban-
quet, to take place in
Titus's house, to which
also she promises to in-
vite the Emperor and
Empress, so that Titus
may wreak vengeance
on them.

Tamora departs on her
errand, but Titus in-
sists that the two sons
remain.

Marcus and others, en-
tering, insist that the
disguised persons are
Tamora's sons, but Titus
satirically defends their
assumed r61es.
Titus then cuts the
throats of the captives,
while Lavinia catches
the blood in a basin.

Act V, Scene 3.
Titus, dressed like
cook, welcomes his

DUTCH, 1641.

about which to confer
with them.

Thamera departs on her
errand, but Titus in-
sists that the two sons
remain and spur him on
to revenge.

Marcus and others, en-
tering, insist that the
disguised persons are
Thamera's sons, but Ti-
tus satirically defends
their assumed rdles.
Titus then cuts the
throats of the captives,
bidding Kozelyna hold
the basin ; but, on realiz-
ing that shehasno hands,
he has her bite the mur-
derers' hearts out and
spit them into their faces.
In the midst of this free-
for-all slaughter, a mes-
senger announces that
Lucius has captured
Aran.

The chorus expatiates
on Rozelyna's woful
plight and hints at a
fearful nemesis.

Act V.

The guests arrive at the
banquet, among whom

HAROLD DE W. FULLER.

GERMAN, 1620.

guests, among; whom
also is Vespasian, —
Morian having been
hanged.

Titus then serves up to
the Emperor and Em-
press, unknown to them,
the heads of JStiopissa's
sons cooked in a pie.

Further, he kills An-
dronica and then

discloses the authors of
all the villany and, also,
the ingredients of the
pie.

After this disclosure,
Titus stabs JEtiopissa,
and is killed in turn
by the Emperor, who,

SHAKSPERE.

guests to the banquet,
among whom also are
Lucius and Aaron, as a
prisoner.

Titus then serves up to
the Emperor and Em-
press, unknown to them,
the heads of Tamora's
sons cooked in a pie.

Further, he kills Lavi-
nia, citing as his warrant
the case of Virginius
and Virginia, and then
discloses the authors of
all the villany and, also,
the ingredients of the
pie.

After this disclosure,
Titus stabs Tamora,
and is killed in turn by
Saturninus, who, again,

DUTCH, 1641.

also are Aran and Lu-
cius,— the latter dis-
guised as his own cham-
berlain.

Titus then serves up to
the Emperor and Em-
press, unknown to them,
the heads of Thamera's
sons cooked in a pie.
At this point Lucius, in
the rdle of chamberlain,
announces that he has
killed Lucius. There
is great rejoicing on the
part of the Emperor and
Empress, since Titus has
told them that Lucius
was at the bottom of the
knavery.

Then Titus kills Roze-
lyna and

discloses the authors of
all the villany and, also,
the ingredients of the
pie.

Hereupon the ghosts of
Demetrius and Quiro
appear to Thamera,who
begins to rage ; she hears
the voices of her sons
crying out within her,
and calls upon Titus to
effect their release by
ripping open her breast.

(b)

[To prove the truth of
his disclosure, Titus
stabs Thamera, and is
killed in turn by Satur-

THE SOURCES OF TITUS ANDRONICUS.

GERMAN, 1620.

again, meets his death
at the hands of Ves-
pasian.

Vespasian is then de-
clared Emperor.

Morian is hanged, as
stated above.

DUTCH, 1641.

ninu8,who, again, meets

his death at the hands

of Lucius.

Lucius is then declared

Emperor.]

[At Titus' s bidding,
Aran is burned alive at
the rear of the stage.]

SHAKSPERE.

meets his death at the
hands of Lucius.

Lucius is then declared
Emperor; and he and
Marcus and young Lu-
cius express their grief
for their dead kinsmen.
Lucius's first decree is
to have Aaron buried
breast-deep in the earth
and starved ; Tamora's
body flung out to birds
of prey, and Lucius's
kinsmen entombed.

The table may be briefly summarized as follows : —

I. Points common to S and D, but not found in G : —

1. The two sons of Titus appear on the stage.

2. The young grandson of Titus has a r6le to play.

3. The foreign enemy are called the Goths.

4. Titus eulogizes Rome.

5. The human sacrifice.

6. The courting of Tamora "in dumb-show" in S, —

with wind-instruments and string-instruments in D.

7. The buried gold used for a bribe.

8. The intriguing letter.

9. The catastrophe of the pit.

10. The pleading of Titus before the tribunes forj the

lives of his sons.

11. The banishment of Lucius.

12. The incident concerned with Ovid's Metamorphoses.

II. Points common to G and S, but not found in D : —

1. The dispute over the emperorship.

2. The betrothal of Lavinia to the Emperor, and the

device by which the marriage is thwarted.

40 HAROLD DE W. FULLER.

3. The whole episode of the black child, including the

murder of the midwife (and also of the nurse in S),
and the capture of the Moor while bearing his child
to a place of safety.

4. The arrow-shooting.

5. The defiant message from Titus to the Emperor,

which results in the death of the messenger.

6. The method by which a confession is extracted from

the Moor.

III. Points common to G and D, but not found in S : —

1. Mutius, one of the sons of Titus in S, is lacking in

both the other plays.

2. Alarbus, the eldest son of Tamora in S, is likewise

not to be found in G and D.

3. The information that the Empress's first husband has

been killed to quiet his suspicions.

4. The Moor in effect boasts himself the "Lightning

and Thunder" of his people.

5. The Moor is angry at the Empress when he meets

her alone in the forest.

6. The charge of insulting the Empress upon which the

sons of Titus are arrested.

7. The hand of Titus only is demanded in return for

the lives of his sons, instead of (as in S) the hand
of Titus, Marcus, or Lucius.

8. Extreme obscenity in the Moor's confession of his

past life.

IV. Points found in S, but in neither G nor D : —

1. The preliminary dispute between Saturninus and

Bassianus.

2. The burial of Titus's sons, who are brought back

dead from the war.

3. The sacrifice of Alarbus, instead of (as in D) the

proposed sacrifice of Aran.

THE SOURCES OF TITUS ANDRONICUS. 41

4. The kidnapping of Lavinia, which results in the

death and burial of Mutius.

5. The hand of Titus, Marcus, or Lucius is demanded

instead of that of Titus only.

6. Act iii, scene 2.

7. Young Lucius carries presents from Titus to Chiron

and Demetrius.

8. The arrow-shooting actually occurs on the stage.

9. The sentence imposed on Aaron varies a little from

that in G and D.

10. Formality in closing the last act; farewell speeches
to the dead.

V. One point occurs in the version represented by the
Program and in S, but is not found in D : — the name Lavinia
instead of (as in D) the name Rozelyna. Also one point
occurs in the version represented by the Program and in G,
but is not found in D : — namely, the reason why Titus is
tricked of his hand.

Since the Program, as it will shortly appear, is of immense
importance in helping us to determine the true origin of D
and hence the relation between D and S, let us, using at all
times for reference the categories given above, discuss the
Program first. As I have already mentioned, Cohn accepted
the version represented by the Program as directly dependent
upon Vos's play D ; but Creizenach and Schroer, on account
of the name Lavinia, as opposed to Rozelyna in D, con-
cluded that besides G there must have been current in
Germany another adaptation more closely related to 8, which
adaptation they held to be that represented by the Program.
They did not, however, connect it in any way with D.
Nevertheless, if we examine the Program closely we are
bound to see in the version which it represents a very
striking connection with D. For besides the almost exact

42 HAROLD DE W. FULLER.

agreement of plot, already referred to,1 the descriptive
titles of the two plays are nearly identical. The full title
of D is "A ran and Titus, or Revenge and Counter-Revenge"
that of the Program, "Revenge versus Revenge, or the warlike
Roman Titus Andronicus." It is not only the similarities,
however, which serve to determine the relation in question,
but quite as much the differences. The name Lavinia, for
instance, as Creizenach and Schroer pointed out, proves con-
clusively that the version represented by the Program cannot
possibly be a translation of D. How could a translator who
had nothing but D to go by, hit upon the name " Lavinia,"
which is that employed in S? It would certainly be un-
reasonable to explain away the difficulty on the ground of
coincidence. Our other alternative, then, is .to suppose that D
and the version represented by the Program had a common
source, and that Jan Vos changed the name Lavinia to Roze-
lyna. His reason for making this alteration readily appears
when we glance at the period in which he wrote. At that time
a new school of erotic poetry had just come into existence in
Holland, and "Roselyn's Oochies" (Rosalind's Eyes) was
only one of a great store of poems in which the anatomy of
this heroine was sung.2 Probably, then, Vos substituted the
name Rozelyna for Lavinia because it was more popular.
But whatever his reason may have been, the necessary infer-
ence as to the common origin of D and the version represented
by the Program is, for our purposes, of real importance, —
indeed of two-fold importance. In the first place, we are
now in a better position to understand how the story of
Titus Andronicus got into Holland ; and in the second place,
when we undertake a comparison of D with S, it will not
then be in order to explain away difficulties of action by
supposing that Vos made alterations to suit his pleasure.

1P. 18, above.

2 See Sir John Bowl-ing's Sketch of the Language and Literature of Holland,
Amsterdam, 1829, p. 47.

THE SOURCES OF TITUS ANDRONICUS. 43

As to the first question, — how the story of Titus Androni-
cus got into Holland, — we have already seen that George
Greflinger in 1650 had planned to translate into German a
Dutch play which he referred to as aAndronicus rait dera
Aaron." Now the preservation of the Program, which in
details of plot practically agrees with D, seems to indicate
that Greflinger actually carried out his plan. For it is
inconceivable that the play represented by the Program, if
it owed its existence to some other version of the story in no
way related to D, should tally so closely with the latter.
Hence there must have been in Holland, besides D, a play
which was the source of D. This inference at once removes
a serious difficulty, already adverted to, — it accounts for Vos's
knowledge of the story of Titus Andronicus in spite of his
ignorance of all foreign languages. But a further question
remains : How did this source of D get into Holland ? One
version of the story, as we know from G, was carried from
England into Germany about 1600 and performed by the
English Actors. There is abundant evidence that the Eng-
lish Actors travelled through the Netherlands as early as the
year 1597, and repeatedly after that.1 Doubtless it was in this
way that the story of Titus Andronicus made its way into
Holland, and thus the Dutch original of D and of Gref-
linger's lost German drama is easily accounted for. The
complete disappearance of the Dutch play of the English
Actors need occasion no surprise. Probably it never got
into print. Unfortunately we have no Dutch collection to
correspond with the German Schauspiele der Englischen Komb-
dianten. We are now in a position to see the exact bearing
of the question how closely Yos followed his original. Obvi-
ously, if Vos made practically no alterations in the plot
which he adapted, we must impute such divergences from S
as exist in D to the work of the English Actors, — that is,

^ee H. E. Moltzer's Shakspere's Imloed op het Nederlandsch Tooneel,
pp. 34-41.

44 HAROLD DE W. FULLER.

if we insist that D depends upon an adaptation of S. These
divergences are enumerated above, in categories II and IV.

Yet when we consider the episodes included in these lists
and notice the dramatic importance of some of them, we
cannot help wondering how they came to be left out, even in
a rough-and-ready adaptation. Similar wonderment is excited
when we attempt to explain G as an adaptation of S ; for G
lacks all the episodes in categories I and IV, — such im-
portant things as the buried gold, the intriguing letter, the
whole catastrophe of the pit, etc. How, then, can we account
for the arbitrary methods which apparently were used in
making the adaptations?

In the first place we must remember that in pieces prepared
for the German or Dutch stage action was all important, for
action is something which appeals to the eyes and can in con-
sequence be readily grasped. Furthermore, it goes without
saying that the English Actors did not trouble themselves to
alter their originals needlessly. If, then, the action in the
originals was not such as to miscarry or to obscure the mean-
ing, one is at a loss to see why they should have changed it.
Thus, for example, in S Aaron buries in the forest a bag of
gold which he says is to serve him in an "excellent piece
of villany." l Here the significance of the buried treasure is
emphasized for the benefit of the audience by the actual
secreting of the gold in their presence. Surely we might
expect to find the same method employed in an adaptation
for the Dutch stage. Upon turning to the corresponding
place in D, on the contrary, we read that Aran, in declaring
his platform of villany to Thamera, informs her that he has
buried a helmet of gold which is to incriminate the two
younger sons of Titus. Similarly in S, Bassianus, who was
previously betrothed to Lavinia, kidnaps her from the very
presence of Titus and Saturninus, and Saturninus later
indulges his sudden infatuation for Tamora by persuading

1 P. 26, above.

THE SOURCES OF TITUS ANDRONICUS. 45

her to become his Empress.1 la G, on the contrary, the
Emperor merely fe//s^Etiopissa that he has returned Andronica
to her father with the message that his heart has changed, —
that he now prefers to marry .^Etiopissa. Here again we
apparently have, in a play adapted to the needs of a German
audience, a reversion from a striking bit of action, in every
way suited to the purpose, to a bald statement of fact wholly
devoid of action. Nor is this difficulty, or that just cited in
D, to be explained by supposing that G and D were pirated
and hence do not exactly represent the plays as they were first
performed on the German and the Dutch stage respectively ;
for no reporter could have failed to comprehend such obvious
phenomena as kidnapping and the burial of a treasure.
Judged, therefore, by a simple common-sense standard of
adaptation, G and D are hard to reconcile with S. If, further,
we add to the discrepancies just mentioned the many im-
portant omissions from G and D which are included in
categories I and IV, and II and IV, our faith in G and D
as adaptations of S may well be shaken.

More light, however, will be thrown upon this particular
contention if we examine category IV (points found in S but
in neither G nor D). With the exception of No. 6 (Act iii,
scene 2), all the episodes in this category either have their
close correspondences in G or D, or at least could easily have
been suggested by the action there represented. (1) The
preliminary dispute between Saturninus and Bassianus varies
but little from the altercation in G, where Saturninus insists
that he be made Emperor instead of Titus. (2) The burial
of Titus's sons is but a slight elaboration of the pageant cele-
brating Titus's return in D. (3) The sacrifice of Alarbus has
its close counterpart in D in the proposed sacrifice of Aran.
(4) The kidnapping of Lavinia, resulting in the death of
Mutius, is a ruse to thwart the marriage of Lavinia to the
Emperor; in G a message, instead of the kidnapping, is

1 P. 22, above.

46 HAROLD DE W. FULLER.

employed to the same end. (5) The demand for the hand
of Titus, Marcus, or Lucius, instead of the hand of Titus
only, is a very slight change. (6) Act iii, scene 2, was in
neither of the first two quartos of S and did not appear until
the First Folio. It was doubtless a late insertion, and we
may here disregard it. (7) According to S, young Lucius
swears vengeance on the villains, Chiron and Demetrius ;
whereupon Titus says to him :

Come, go with me into mine armoury ;
Lucius, I'll fit thee; and withal my boy
Shall carry from me to the .Empress' sons
Presents that I intend to send them both.
Come, come ; thou'lt do thy message, wilt thou not ?
Young Lucius: Ay, with my dagger in their bosoms, grandsire !

In D, Askanius's protestations of courage are carried to much
greater length than in S. He desires to be fitted out with
armor and begs : " Oh, only give me a sword, and I will cut
the cruel bellies out of the villains ! " In D, then, Askanius
desires in some way to take part in wreaking vengeance. In
S his request is granted, and he is allowed to carry to Chiron
and Demetrius weapons, with verses of sinister intent. The
expansion in S, therefore, may be safely called the following
out of a hint in D. (8) Though the arrow-shooting does not
actually occur on the stage in G, it is nevertheless referred
to. (9) The sentence of death imposed on Aaron in S has
its close counterpart in both G and D. (10) The farewell
speeches to the dead in the last act of S are again only a
slight elaboration (tending to dramatic completeness) of the
final scenes in G and D.

Thus we find that there is not a single episode in S1 that
could not easily have been suggested by the combined con-
tents of G and D ; whereas, on the other hand, we are at a
loss, as we have seen in the preceding paragraph, to explain
in G and D the many omissions and the striking changes
from S.

1 Except Act iii, scene 2, which we are justified in eliminating.

THE SOURCES OF TITUS ANDKONICUS. 47

Such being the case, the question at once arises : Can it be
possible that the English prototypes of G and D antedated
S ? We shall be in a better way to decide this question after
we have examined category III, — points common to G and
D but not found in S. Here we have eight agreements
which could in no way owe their origin to S. Indeed, there
are nine such agreements. If we turn to category V, we find
that in the Program the reason is given by the Moor why
Titus is being tricked of his hand. Now this reason is also
furnished in G, but not in D. It is inconceivable that this
additional point in the Program was incorporated from G,
since, if there had been a borrowing from G, more would
have been taken than a mere motive occupying in the
Program but a short clause. To explain these nine agree-
ments by urging coincidence is of course out of the question.1
We are, then, forced to conclude that G and D go back to
English versions prior to S.

As to the direct relation of S to these English versions, I
have already shown that no episode exists in S which has not
either a close correspondence in G or D, or which could
not easily have been suggested by G or D. In other words,
so far as plot and action are concerned, these two plays
almost exactly supplement each other and produce S. How
nicely the action of G is filled out by that of D, and vice
versa, we may see by again turning to categories I and II.
D lacks such important incidents as the dispute over the
emperorship, the betrothal of Lavinia to the Emperor, the
action concerned with the black child. G lacks the r6le of
young Lucius, the human sacrifice, the buried gold, the
intriguing letter, the whole catastrophe of the pit, etc. If,
however, we combine the plots of G and D, the result
accounts for practically everything in S. Add to this strik-

1 Creizenach, finding, as I have said, only one agreement of this kind
(namely, the information that the Empress had killed her first husband),
was possibly justified in pleading coincidence ; but this argument can no
longer suffice.

48 HAEOLD DE W. FULLEE.

ing fact, our conclusion that G and D cannot possibly depend
upon S, directly or indirectly, and the inference is not to be
avoided : In G and D we have preserved to us two old English
plays which prove to be the sources of 8.

But though, judged purely by the plots, the English
originals of G and D seem undoubtedly to have been the
sources of S, it may yet be urged, I suppose, that they were
not the immediate sources of that play. Such an objection
has been partly forestalled by the close similarity of several
parallel passages already given in the table of plots. To
remove, nevertheless, any lingering doubt in this regard, I
will quote a few more parallels. In G, page 178, Titus
says : * " O how sweetly and pleasantly do the birds sing
in the air ! each seeking its food ; and the hunt has likewise
commenced in joy and splendour. But yet my heart is
oppressed and uneasy, for that I had last night a most dread-
ful dream, and know not what it portends. I must now
again join the Emperor, who is present at the hunt in
person."

In S, act ii, scene 2, 1 ff., Titus says :

The hunt is up, the morn is bright and grey,
The fields are fragrant and the woods are green ;
Uncouple here and let us make a bay,
And wake the Emperor and his lovely bride,
And rouse the prince and ring a hunter's peal,
That all the court may echo with the noise.
Sons, let it be your charge, as it is ours,
To attend the Emperor's person carefully ;
I have been troubled in my sleep this night,
But dawning day new comfort hath inspired.

G, pp. 180, 182, "Empress: ' Therefore come and take signal
revenge on her, treat her cruelly, and, if you love me, kill
her husband by her side; but if you do not I will curse you,
and henceforth never more regard you as sons of mine/ "

1 The quotations from G, found in this paper, are taken from an English
translation, which is furnished in Cohn's Shakespeare in Germany.

THE SOURCES OF TITUS ANDRONICUS. 49

S, act ii, scene 3, 114-15,

Tamora: Revenge it, as you love your mother's life,
Or be ye not henceforth call'd my children.

G, p. 182. " Empress: ' Therefore, my dear son, give me
your sword, that I may take away her life myself/ ''
S, act ii, scene 3, 120-1,

Tamora : Give me thy poniard ; you shall know, my boys,

Your mother's hand shall right your mother's wrong.

So much for the closeness of the prototype of G to S.

Similarly, parallel passages in S and D attest a like
dependence of S upon the English prototype of D. In D,
act iii, H. 2 v°, " Titus : ' O surpassing Philomel, killed by
Tereus' knife ! ' "

S, act ii, scene 4, 26 if.,

Marcus : But sure, some Tereus hath deflowered thee,

And, lest thou shouldst detect him, cut thy tongue, . . .
. . . Fair Philomela, she but lost her tongue, . . .
... A craftier Tereus, cousin, has thou met.

In D, act iii, H. 3 v°, lamenting his daughter's ruin,
" Titus : ' Ha, ha, ha, ha ! ' Marcus : ' How now ! 'tis no
time to laugh/ Titus: 'Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! how can I
weep? My heart is dried up ; my tears are scattered/"

S, act iii, scene 1, 264 ff.,

Marcus : Now is a time to storm : why art thou still ?

Titus : Ha, ha, ha !

Marcus : Why dost thou laugh ? it fits not with this hour.

Titus : Why I have not another tear to shed ;
Besides, this sorrow is an enemy,
And would usurp upon my watery eyes,
And make them blind with tributary tears.

The above-quoted passages, both in the case of G and of D,
are only samples, to which others alike convincing might
easily be added.
4

50 HAROLD DE W. FULLER.

If, now, the theory that the English prototypes of G and
D were the sources of S is to stand the test, we shall expect
to find in S some slight alterations of action for the purpose
either of effecting changes in motive or at least of accom-
plishing dramatic improvement. The first instance of this
appears at the beginning of S. In G, Titus is on the stage
from the very start, and the scene opens with the suggestion
by Vespasian that Titus be made Emperor. This the eldest
son of the late emperor hot-headedly resents, and puts
forward what he deems a better claim to the vacant office ;
whereupon Titus generously yields to him. In S, on the
contrary the play opens with an altercation over the emperor-
ship between Saturninus and Bassiauus and their followers.
Marcus, entering, puts an end to their dispute by the
announcement that the Roman people have elected Titus
Emperor. He eulogizes Titus at considerable length, glorify-
ing his brave deeds in war. A captain then announces
Titus's approach, and soon the valiant general enters, amid a
tumultuous flourish. His services towards Rome, and those
of his house, are also attested by the public and ceremonial
burial of his dead sons. The objection on the part of
Saturninus to Titus's election breaks out much later in the
scene, and Titus, as in G, generously yields. His yielding,
however, is interpreted by Saturninus as such offensive con-
descension as to make sincere gratitude impossible. At the
corresponding place in D, there is no dispute whatever, and
less chance than in S for flourish and demonstration. The
improvement in S is obvious. For in G we have no
splendid entry and dramatically effective pageant such as we
look for on the return of a great hero to Rome. Further-
more, the dispute in G gives no motive, as in S, for
Saturninus's later hostility towards Titus, for the yielding
is in the German play regarded as a favor. Moreover, in D,
though some slight pageant is attempted, — a mere suggestion
of what we find in S, — no scheme is wrought out to give
potency and rationality to the later grudge of Saturniuus

THE SOURCES OF TITUS ANDRONICUS. 51

against Titus. From all this we see that, in the opening
scene of S, slender hints of what ought to be, have been
combined and elaborated into due formality and dramatic
completeness.

A similar example of dramatic improvement, in which
hints from both G and D have apparently been followed, is
afforded by the controversy over Lavinia between Tamora's
two sons. In G (p. 172), Helicates and Saphonus felicitate
themselves on the life of luxury and ease which has resulted
from their captivity. Then, after comparing notes in a most
agreeable and sympathetic fashion, they come to the conclu-
sion that they are both enamored of the same person. Even
after this discovery, some time elapses before they plunge
into the temerity of anger. Helicates urges his greater age as
a basis for first claim to Lavinia's love. Saphonus, on the
other hand, insists that his own lack of years is compensated
for by excess of courage, etc. In D, the scene opens with
the brothers in the very midst of their dispute. There is,
however, no reasonableness in the claim of either ; they
simply "have at" each other blindly, until Aran, entering,
carries them into a somewhat abstract discussion of very bad
ethics. In S, act ii, scene 1, 11. 26 ff., the trouble begins
as follows :

Demetrius. Chiron, thy years want wit, thy wit wants edge,
And manners, to intrude where I am grac'd,
And may, for aught thou know'st, affected be.

Chiron. Demetrius, thou dost overween in all,

And so in this, to bear me down with braves.
'Tis not the difference of a year or two
Makes me less gracious or ihee more fortunate.

The author of S has employed the dramatic method of D in
entering in medias res, and has given to the quarrel, as in G,
some reasonable cause : Demetrius throughout the scene keeps
harping on his extra years; in 11. 73-74 he says, "Youngling,
learn thou to make some meaner choice ; Lavinia is thine

52 HAROLD DE W. FULLER.

elder brother's hope," — a taunt which only makes Chiron
strive the harder to prove his own worth.

Another decided improvement is achieved in S by the epi-
sode of the human sacrifice. In D there is much talk about
offering up Aran, but nothing comes of all the discussion :
Aran is released. Thp incident does not occur in G, but in
S the eldest son of Tarnora, Alarbus, is actually sacrificed,
off the stage, to the shades of Titus's dead sons. The gain
in S is twofold. In the first place, the heathen custom of
immolation is scrupulously followed and not merely hinted
at ; and, in the second place, Tamora's later unrelenting
cruelty toward Lavinia is made to appear less inhuman
because it now becomes revenge. There is no loss, either,
in taking away the motive for Aaron's crimes : he is a
villain in grain by his own frank confession (act iii, scene 1,
11. 205-6) :

Let fools do good, and fair men call for grace,
Aaron will have his soul black like his face.

The kidnapping of Lavinia in S, as I have hinted before,
shows a great betterment of its sole original in G. In G,
after the betrothal of Lavinia, the Ernperor, finding himself
infatuated with ^Etiopissa, returns Lavinia to her father
with the message that she is not the equal of his present
empress. This conduct is not only absurd in itself, but it
is artistically unfortunate, for, while it does release the
Emperor from his previous contract, it serves to humiliate
Lavinia undeservedly. In S, on the contrary, the kidnap-
ping by Bassianus both thwarts the marriage and gives
Saturninus another grievance against Titus, whom he insists
on regarding as a party to the intrigue.

Another instance of a change for the better is in the clos-
ing scene of S : Aaron is condemned to be buried breast-deep
in the earth and starved to death, — a bit of torture which we
are left to imagine as taking place after the play is over. In
D, as the final act of nemesis, Aran is burned alive on the

THE SOURCES OF TITUS ANDRONICUS. 53

stage. This scene is precisely what one expects in an early
play planned chiefly for spectacular effect. It is the trap-
door episode of the Jew of Malta over again, as is shown by
two illustrations in the first edition of D.1 The Jew of Malta
was running at about the same time at which the English
original of D must have been presented. No doubt there
was a specially constructed stage-apparatus for the Jew,
which another play may well have utilized.2

One further example, out of several that might be added,
must suffice. In both G and D, the hand of Titus only is
demanded in return for the lives of his two sons. The
subsequent dispute, therefore, among Titus, Marcus, and
Lucius, as to which of them shall suffer the sacrifice causes
us surprise. Nor is it to be supposed that the demand,
although couched in vague terms, is understood by all to be

1The first illustration pictures the confusion in the last scene. On a
platter lie the heads of Quiro and Demetrius, grinning at each other ;
nearby are the supine corpse of Rozelyna and the banquet table upset; and,
as the cynosure of all eyes, Aran is ablaze with enveloping flames. The
second illustration represents a moment earlier : Aran is seen in mid-air,
just after his precipitation through the trap-door, with his hands tied
behind him ; chains suspended from the roof are fastened to his ankles.
The resulting shock bids fair to exceed the strappado. And, as if to typify
the unruffled complacency of the audience even amid such harrowing
scenes, there is visible at the top of the scenery a cat, which peers down
on the gruesome sight and appears to be licking her chops at the plente-
ous quarry.

2 Some critics regard the last scene in the Jew of Malta as a later addition
or substitution by Heywood or some other hack. For those, however, who
still believe the scene to be Marlowe's, the instance of dramatic change
which I have here cited ought to have importance. It should also be
noted that in Ravenscroft's revision of Titus Andronicus the Moor is
tortured and burned on the stage as in D. Now it is possible that some of
Eavenscroft's friends, "anciently conversant with the stage," may have
told him of the great success of this scene in the English original of D,
and that he was led to revive it. For, although the tradition as to the
authorship of a play might soon die out even among those intimately
associated with the theatre, "stage-business," on the other hand, would be
much more likely to be perpetuated; for actors, as a rule, take more
interest in stage-devices than in authors.

54 HAROLD DE W. FULLER.

for the hand of any one of them ; for in D we find Marcus
saying, "Though Titus's hand is required, I will send
mine ; " and in G, the Moor confides to the audience the
Empress's motive for the trickery, — namely, that Titus may
hereafter be incapable of overthrowing Rome. Now in S
the dispute is furnished with an adequate motive : the
demand is for the hand of Titus, Marcus, or Lucius.

Convincing as the traces of this dramatic mending are,
however, they are not the only evidence of revision which we
may hope to find in S. If our main theory be true, we may
also look for the presence in S of images and conceits and
dramatic artifices which have been suggested to the mind
of the author by somewhat dissimilar counterparts in G and
D ; or, to put it in another way, we shall expect to find that
the mind of the author has been so stimulated by certain
hints in his originals that he has created images and conceits
and dramatic artifices which are not identical with their
correspondences in G and D but are rather the result of the
mental reaction which these have excited. As a matter of
fact, the evidence of just such a mental reaction is apparent
in several places in S. In D, act ii, F 3, r°, for instance,
when Titus has failed to move the judges and tribunes to
save the lives of his sons, he says : " The judge knows how
to bend the law like wax."

In S, act iii, scene 1, 45, at the very same point in the
action he says : "A stone is soft as wax, tribunes more hard
than stones."

Again in D, act iii, H 3, v°, "Titus: 'Thus hath venge-
ance kindled its fire in this breast, — a fire like the fire of
Aetna, a fire like that of Troy.' "

In S, at the same place, act iii, scene 1, 242-3:

Marcus : Now let hot Aetna cool in Sicily,

And be my heart an ever-burning hell.

Notice in the following instance how there has been a com-
bination in S of the two conceits in G and D.

THE SOURCES OF TITUS ANDRONICUS. 55

In D, act iii, F 4, v°, "Titus: 'Can I not soften the
Roman prince with the tears which like a salt sea course
down my wrinkled face? . . . I'll give my heart's blood to
expiate the evils of my sons/ "

In G, p. 194, "Titus: ' Here will I lie and not leave off
crying until I have flooded the earth with my tears; in
winter they shall melt away the snow and frost/ "

In S, act iii, scene 1, 14 ff.,

Titus : Let my tears stanch the earth's dry appetite ;

My sons' sweet blood will make it shame and blush.
O earth, I will befriend thee more with rain,
That shall distill from these two ancient urns,
Than youthful April shall with all his showers :
In summer's drought I'll drop upon thee still ;
In winter with warm tears I'll melt the snow,
And keep eternal spring-time on thy face,
So thou refuse to drink my dear sons' blood.

As we see, the figure of the tears which is carried out to
greater extravagance in G than in D has passed from the
former into S, and to it has been added a hyperbole suggested
by " heart's blood " in D.

In D, act ii, E 3, r°, Marcus, while looking down into the
dark pit where the two sons of Titus have been suffocated,
says : " I see something glittering."

In S, act ii, scene 3, 222 ff., while Martius is in the pit
and Quintus is trying to help him out, the following con-
versation takes place :

Marlins : Lord Bassianus lies embrewed here,

All on a heap, like to a slaughter'd lamb,
In this detested, dark, blood-drinking pit.

Quintus : If it be dark, how dost thou know 'tis he ?

Martius: Upon his bloody finger he doth wear

A precious ring, that lightens all the hole,
Which, like a taper in some monument,
Doth shine upon the dead man's earthly cheeks,
And shows the ragged entrails of the pit.

56 HAROLD DE W. FULLER.

Again in D, act iii, G 1, v°, Titus, when bewailing his
daughter's fate, cries out : " If Apelles' hand with a bloody
pencil had drawn this villany, who could behold it without
his heart breaking before a drop of water had trickled from
his eyes ? "

In S, act iii, scene 1, 103 ff.,

Titus : Had I but seen thy picture in this plight,

It would have madded me ; what shall I do
Now I behold thy lively body so?

In G, page 200, there is the stage direction : " Titus takes
up his hand, raises it, and looks up to heaven, sighs, mutters,
vows, strikes his breast, and puts down the hand after having
sworn.7' At this juncture in S, act iii, scene 1, 207-8,
he says :

O, here I lift this one hand up to heaven,

And bow this feeble ruin [i. e., his mutilated arm] to the earth.

In the following example the real action which takes place
in D, namely, the actual incitement to vengeance by the two
severed heads, furnishes Titus in S, act iii, scene 1, 272-5,
with these lines :

For these two heads do seem to speak to me,
And threat me I shall never come to bliss
'Till all these mischiefs be return'd again
Even in their throats that have committed them.

The last example of this mental reaction which I shall cite
is perhaps the most striking of all. In G, page 168, the
Moor soliloquizes thus : ". . . So that I became renowned all
over the world by my great superhuman deeds and obtained
the name, ' The Lightning and Thunder of Ethiopia.' "

In D, act 1, C 2, r°, when asked who he is he brags: "I
am the Gothic God of Arms, who did terrorize the Roman
army by the thunderings of my voice, by the lightnings of
mine eyes."

THE SOURCES OF TITUS ANDRONICUS. 57

In his soliloquy in S, though he employs as figures " light-
ning and thunder " he connects them in a different way with
Tamora, — act ii, beginning :

Now climbeth Tamora Olympus' top,
Safe out of fortune's shot, and sits aloft,
Secure of thunder's crack or lightning's flash,
Advanc'd above pale envy's threatening reach.

The practical agreement here in G and D and a difference of
application in S add convincingness to the previous examples ;
surely, if the evidence of this mental reaction counts for
aught, the main theory of this article is considerably rein-
forced.

Closely akin to the traces of this mental reaction is the
evidence in S of great improvement in phraseology. It may
be urged that, after having been adapted into German and
Dutch and then translated back into English, G and D do
not represent their old prototypes verbatim ; and that com-
parison with S in respect to phraseology is therefore unfair.
Within certain limits, to be sure, this objection is valid ; a
few passages, for instance, by sheer wear and tear may have
degenerated into scarcely recognizable semblances of their
original selves. But, allowing generously for this, we should
yet expect to find the greater parts of the two adaptations
closely similar to their prototypes. Indeed it would seem
odd, even in an adaptation, if we did not meet continually
with lines which agreed almost word for word with their
originals. The German Hamlet and the German Romeo and
Juliet , for example, although there is strong reason to believe
that they depend upon Shakspere's two plays before he had
revised them, nevertheless preserve many lines of our present
versions intact. Certainly, then, a considerable number of
whole lines must, by mere chance, if in no other way, have
crept into G and D without alteration. Such being the case,
the absence from G and D of one verbatim line of S is a
convincing sign of thorough-going revision on the part of S.

58 HAROLD DE W. FULLER.

Moreover, the evidence of revision is further substantiated
when in both G and D speeches vary alike, in respect to
sentiment, from the corresponding passages in S. In S,
act iii, scene 1, 194 ff., Titus says in eulogy of his hand
merely this :

Good Aaron, give his majesty ray hand :
Tell him it was a hand that warded him
From thousand dangers ; bid him bury it ;
More hath it merited, — that let it have.

Here, obviously, the pathos consists in the brevity, the
self-control, the only half-uttered resentment with which
reference is made to the valorous old hand. In both G and
D, on the contrary, instead of this chastened brevity and
stirring pathos there is mere colorless boasting. G, p. 192,
reads : " Noble hand, how have your faithful services been
requited ! O ungrateful Rome, this hand often saved you
from your cruel enemies. Had it not done so, you would ere
this have been torn to pieces, — there would be no trace of
Rome now. How often, noble hand, had you to do battle
against a thousand hands ! the most perilous and sanguinary
wars have been fought by you."

In D, act iii, G 4 v°, the eulogy is still longer and much
less restrained. " Here is the golden hand," Titus brags, —
"the hand which with its dagger bathed for the common
good the 'Granaden' in a rain of human blood; the hand
which has lorded it over the Germans in the Alps; the
hand which paved the Pontus gulf with bodies; the hand
which laid low the Epirots in the mountains; the hand
which twice annihilated the Gothic army;" etc., for half a
page more.

And, indeed, even when a comparison of only one of the
plays with S is possible, considerable trace of revision can
often be seen from the phraseology.

In S, act iii, scene 1, 215 ff., for example, Titus's behavior
is tinged with lunacy : —

THE SOURCES OP TITUS ANDRONICUS. 59

Marcus. O brother, speak with possibilities,

And do not break into these deep extremes.
Titus. Is not my sorrow deep, having no bottom ?

Then be my passions bottomless with them.
Marcus. But yet let reason govern thy lament.
Titus. If there were reason for these miseries,

Then into limits could I bind my woes.

When heaven doth weep, doth not the earth o'erflow ?

If the winds rage, doth not the sea wax mad,

Threatening the welkin with his big-swoln face ?

And wilt thou have a reason for this coil ?

I am the sea ; hark, how her sighs do blow !

She is the weeping welkin, I the earth :

Then must my sea be moved with her sighs ;

Then must my earth with her continual tears

Become a deluge, overflow'd and drown'd ;

For why, my bowels cannot hide her woes,

But like a drunkard must I vomit them.

In this surcharged passage Titus's momentary madness
finds relief in extravagant images, which are forged with a
readiness and ease somewhat suggestive of Macbeth's teem-
ing fancy. In D, act iii, H 3, v°, Titus fairly out-Herods
Herod, or else lapses into the unintelligible, as in the follow-
ing : " Who is there ? Is it Titus ? Yes, it is ; I know him
by his gait. Stand, Gradamard ! stand ! stand ! you shall
not escape me. Away, away ! Klaudillus, away ! I must
hasten to the Styx. Let loose, Melanus ! let loose ! it is
Pollander's bride. Here, Aran, here ! come here and weep
out your eyes. Why does the cur howl? All the sprites
cry out; here! The sun faints away for fear; hell seems
broken loose," etc., to the extent of about three pages.
Such raging savors of the pre-Shaksperian drama, in which
it was sometimes customary to have a character go mad on
the stage. Indeed, Titus's incoherency here reminds one
of the temporary madness of old Jeronimo in Kyd's portion of
the Spanish Tragedy. At any rate, it is hard to believe that
Titus's forcible figures in S could ever have degenerated into
such empty lunacy as we find here in D.

60 HAROLD DE W. FULLER.

Not less are we forced to admit revision when continually
we observe commonplace and crudely obvious lines in G and
D replaced in S by subtle and connotative phrasing. Thus,
in both G and D, the Moor refers to his relations with
Tamora in terms of gross and noisome indecency. In S, on
the contrary, act ii, scene 1, 19-24, his speech compared with
G and D is couched in delicate suggestion :

I will be bright, and shine in pearl and gold,
To wait upon this new-made empress.
To wait, said I? to wanton with this queen,
This goddess, this Semiramis, this nymph.
This siren, that will charm Rome's Saturnine,
And see his shipwrack and his commonweal's.

The same, too, may be said of the conversation of mutual
revilement between Tamora and Lavinia. In S the speeches
are wittily pungent and characterized by verbal quibbling.
In D they are too insultingly outspoken to bear repetition.
In G, likewise, they are a mere empty bandying of con-
tumely, with no hidden sting. Similarly, a comparison of
the latter part of this scene in G and S, where Lavinia is
begging for her life, bears out the idea of revision on the
part of S. G, p. 182, "Andronica: <O you most merciless
woman, is there not a spark of compassion in you ? ' '

S, act ii, scene 3, 136, u Lavinia : ' O Tamora ! thou bear'st
a woman's face, — ' "

G, p. 184, -''Andronica : 'O is there no help? Is there
no pity ? ' "

S, 1. 182, " Laviuia : < No grace ? No womanhood ? ' "

Here, again, we see that the phrasing in S nicely hits off
the situation, and contains below the surface lingering poig-
nancy and appeal, — just what a revising dramatist would
have striven for.

One more example, which I shall add without comment,
must suffice in this brief discussion of phraseology. In G,
p. 196, when Titus discovers his daughter in her mutilated
condition, he says in part : " When I used to return in

THE SOURCES OF TITUS ANDRONICUS. 61

triumph to Rome, suffering much pain from wounds received
from the enemy, and saw you joyfully hastening to meet me
with your lute, you made me forget my pain, and refreshed
my old heart with your pretty innocent talk. But wherewith
will you now play the lute to gladden me, and wherewith will
you speak ? You are robbed of all this/7

In D, act iii, G 1, v°, the part of Titus's lament which
concerns his daughter's mouth and tongue reads : " How
your mouth flows with blood, which so often distilled nectar !
. . . My dear love, where is the golden tongue, which sang
father's golden fame with golden verses ? . . . The chatter-
ing fiddles, the zither, and the cymbals pall on me, when
compared with your throat."

In S, act iii, scene 1, 82-86, the corresponding passage
is as follows :

O that delightful engine of her thoughts,
That blabb'd them with such pleasing eloquence,
Is torn from forth that pretty hollow cage
"Where, like a sweet melodious bird, it sung
Sweet varied notes, enchanting every ear !

To recapitulate the new evidence produced in this article
to substantiate our main theory, we have seen (1) that the
version represented by the Program depends upon an old
Dutch play, no longer extant, which must also have been the
source of D ; (2) that this Dutch play was pretty certainly
the result of an adaptation of an old English play, which was
carried into Holland and performed by the English Actors ;
(3) that the almost exact agreement, in point of action,
between the Program and D forces us to impute such differ-
ences from S as are now to be found in D to the work of
the English Actors ; (4) that, as these changes are altogether
too arbitrary to be explained even by recourse to the English
Actors, D, judged purely on these grounds, can scarcely point
back to an adaptation of S ; (5) that G, as an adaptation of
S, is open to like suspicion ; (6) that such suspicion becomes

62 HAROLD DE W. FULLER.

a positive objection when we further see that the English
prototypes of G and D probably antedate S, since G and D
almost exactly supplement each other to produce the plot
of S; (7) that this objection of priority is strengthened by
nine agreements in G and D, which in no sense owe their
origin to S; (8) that the English prototypes of G and D
not only antedate S, but prove to be the direct sources
of S, as is shown by the closeness of parallel passages ; (9)
that the main theory of this article is again substantiated
threefold (a) by the evidence in S of dramatic improvement
over its sources in respect to action ; (6) by the trace of the
" mental reaction " in the author of S ; (c) by the many signs
of improvement in phraseology.

In a subsequent paper, which I hope to publish in the
course of a year, I intend to treat this question of sources in
greater detail than I could attempt to do within the limits of
the present article. I shall there endeavor to clear up such
considerations as are here left only partially treated. For
example, it may naturally have occurred to the reader that a
single lost English play (instead of two) may suffice as the
source of both G and D. Such an assumption, it is true,
is not impossible, for the material of S is practically all
accounted for. But let us see where this theory will lead us.
From categories I and II we have seen that G fails to pre-
serve several important episodes which are found in D and
S ; and that D omits several such episodes, which are found
in G and S. Furthermore, from category IV it has appeared
that, in excess of the combined contents of G and D, S con-
tains not one point as important as most of those which have
been omitted from either G or D ; indeed, that it contains
nothing of this kind which could be called an entire episode.
On the theory of a single source for G and D, these two plays
must have preserved, between them, by mere chance all the
important episodes in the old play on which they supposedly
depend. Now does it not seem odd that G, which on the

THE SOURCES OF TITUS ANDRONICUS. 63

basis of this theory is cut down considerably from its source,
and D, which likewise varies from its source a great deal, did
not both happen to omit some important episode, — such as,
for instance, that concerned with the black child, — which S
on the other hand preserved ?

Finally, this theory of two old English plays instead of
one is not, even to the extent which I have seemed to indi-
cate, a construction. It is supported by positive evidence.
Henslowe's diary actually contains a number of entries which
account for the two plays in question. The play there
mentioned, under the date of April 11, 1591, and six times
after that, as " tittus and Vespacia " or " titus and Vespacia "
and later abbreviated three times to " tittus " or " titus," I
hold to be the lost source of G.1 And the play mentioned
under the date of January 23, 1593, and twice after that, as
" titus and ondronicus " or " tittus and ondronicus " and later
abbreviated twice to " andronicous," I believe to be the lost

lThe entries in Henslowe's diary (see ed. J. P. Collier, etc., pp. 20,
24-31, 33, 35, 36) are as follows:

In the name of God, Amen, 1591, beginge the 19 of febreary, my lord
Stranges mene, as foloweth :

Rd at tittus and Vespacia,* the 11 of aprell 1591 iiju iiij s

Rd at tittus and vespacia, the 20 of aprell 1591 Ivj s

Rd at titus and Vespacia, the 3 of maye 1592 Ivij s

Rd at tittus and vespacia, the ^of maye 1592 xxxs

Rd at tittus and Vespacia, the 15 of maye 1592 iij11

Rd at titus and vespacia, the 24 of maye 1592 xxxs

Rd at tittus and Vespacia, the 6 of June 1592 xxxxij s

Then comes another set of entries, without mention of the company that
gave the plays, but with the following salutation :

In the Name of God Amen, 1592, begininge the 29 of Deseinber.

Rd at titus, the 6 of Janewary 1592 f lijs

Rd at tittus, the 15 of Jenewary 1593 xxxs

Rd at titus, the 29 of Jenewary 1593 xxxs

^According to Collier, Henslowe placed a "ne" in the margin opposite
this entry to indicate that the play was new.
f After this entry 1593 is substituted for 1592.

64 HAROLD DE W. FULLER.

source of D.1 From this it will be seen that I take none of
the entries in Henslowe's diary to refer to S. For this
identification of the old English plays with the entries in
Henslowe I am indebted to Professor G. P. Baker of
Harvard University. Proceeding on the theory set forth
in this article, he was able to find traces of the lost plays
by an ingenious and thoroughly logical interpretation of
Henslowe's entries and of the intricate transactions of the
English companies, which at various times performed the
plays. Professor Baker has been kind enough to subjoin to
this present paper a statement of his argument.

Another point which I shall later treat more fully is
the relation, in point of phraseology, between G and D and
their English sources. I shall then attempt to show that G,
as a pure and simple adaptation, represents, in almost every
case, a compression rather than an elaboration of its sources ;
that the adapter did not attempt to reveal his own indi-
viduality, but only tried to suit the needs of the German
stage. In D, on the other hand, we shall find that Vos,
though, as we have seen, he scrupulously followed the plot
of his original, yet in all probability treated the dialogue
with some freedom. In many cases, to be sure, a comparison
of D with S shows a close following of even the dialogue,
but in several other places we shall have to admit, I think,

^n the name of God Amen, beginenge the 27 of desember 1593, the
earle of Susex his men.

Rd at titus and ondronicus,* the 23 of Jenewary iij11 viij s

Rd at titus and ondronicous, the 28 of Janewary 1593 .. xxxxs
Rd at tittus and ondronicus, the 6 of febery 1593 xxxxs

In the name of God Amen, beginninge at Newington, my Lord Admeralle
and my Lorde chamberlen men, as foloweth, 1594 : —

5 of June 1594, Rd at andronicous xijs

12 of June 1594, Rd at andronicous vijs

•^According to Collier, Henslowe placed a "ne" in the margin opposite
this entry to indicate that the play was new.

THE SOURCES OF TITUS ANDRONICUS. 65

that Vos compressed and expanded, and that he wove into
the play to some extent his own thoughts and feelings.1

The consideration of the authorship and of the date of S
I shall also reserve for the present. I must, therefore, run
the risk, temporarily, of seeming dogmatic when I state that
I believe Shakspere to be the author of practically every line
of S, and that S belongs to the year 1594.

HAROLD DEW. FULLER.

1 It may excite surprise that I have failed to mention the old ballad,
entitled Titus Andronicus's Complaint. Inasmuch as only a few, beside
Bishop Percy, have seriously insisted on this as a partial source of the
play, it has hardly seemed worth while to include a discussion of the matter
here. In the light of our new theory, furthermore, the ballad appears
beyond question to be a following of the play and not a source.

II.— "TITTUS AND VESPACIA" AND "TITUS AND
ONDRONICUS" IN HENSLOWE'S DIARY.

The entries in Henslowe's Diary as to " tittus and Ves-
pacia " and " titus and Ondronicus " seem to me, if they
be carefully considered, to support Mr. Fuller's conclusions
in regard to the origin of Shakspere's Titus Andronicus.
I believe, with him, that we have in the entries which he
has quoted in his article the two plays he names as the
sources for Shakspere's play — the original of G in " tittus
and Vespacia " ; the original of D in the " titus and On-
dronicus" entered as "ne" Jan. 23, 1593-4, when the
Sussex men were playing at the Rose.1 Note that the
title-page of the first extant quarto (1600) says that the
play was given by Pembroke's, Derby's, Sussex' and the
Chamberlain's companies, and that — this is important — the
order of the last two companies on this title-page is the
order of their control of the play as shown in Henslowe's
Diary.2 May it not be, then, that the assignment is correct
and that the Pembroke and the Derby company, in the order
named, used the play before the Sussex and the Chamberlain
men? I think if we assume, for the moment, that whoever
put the statement on the title-page was thinking simply of
a Titus Andronicus play and not of the special play before
him, it may be shown that the statement was entirely correct,
and that a Titus Andronicus play passed successively from
Pembroke's company to Derby's, Sussex', and the Chamber-
lain's men. The fact that on this first quarto no author was
named for the play may have helped in the treatment of two
successive Andronicus plays as one.

Of the Pembroke men to 1594, when " titus and Ondroni-
cus " was acted as a new play, we know surely little more

, ed. J. P. Collier, p. 33. Udem, pp. 33, 35, 36.

TITUS AND ONDRONICCTS. 67

than that they were at Leicester in 1592,1 were in hard straits
by September, 1593,2 and had some of their plays printed
in 1594-95.3 They are usually supposed to have originated,
or to have grown into prominence, not long before 1588-89.4
It is to be observed that the Vos play is much more bloody
than G, and more complicated. In the number of incidents
and the bloodiness of them, it certainly suggests for its original
a play of the late 80's — the time of the efflorescence of the
drama of blood. We know that Shakespeare used Pembroke
plays in his work — The True Tragedy of Richard, Duke of
York, and The Taming of a Shrew.5 Moreover, when " titus
and Ondronicus" first appeared in connection with the
Chamberlain's company, the plays given were novelties from
the list of the Admiral's men, or plays not marked as new
yet not from the repertory of the Chamberlain's men when,
as Lord Strange's men, they had acted at the Rose in 1592.6
When we notice that Bellindon, Cutlacke, and The Jew
were given repeatedly by the Admiral's men after the
Chamberlain's men left them,7 but that the other four plays
never reappeared, we must believe that after February, 1593,
when my Lord Strange's men ceased to play at the Rose,
and June, 1594, these plays were written for them; or they
acquired them from some other company ; or Henslowe had
obtained them from some company and sold them to the
Chamberlain's men when they ceased to act with the Admi-
ral's men. When we remember that from April to late
December, 1593, the plague raged in London,8 forcing the

1 W. Kelly, Notices of Leicester, under 1592.

2 J. P. Collier, Memoirs of Alleyn, p. 32.

3 E. Arber, Stationers' Register : First Pt. of Contention, True Tragedy, Tam-
ing of a Shrew.

4 F. G. Fleay, History of the Stage, p. 87.

5 See title-page of first editions of these plays [1595, 1594].
6Diary, pp. 20-30.

''Idem, pp. 36 et seq. For evidence as to separation of the companies see
later part of this article.

8 F. G. Fleay, History of the Stage, p. 94.

68 GEORGE P. BAKER.

company (Lord Strangers) to travel ; 1 that we do not hear of
it in London again before June, 1594 ; that, when on the road,
it was likely to depend on London successes rather than on
entirely new plays; that one of the four plays, "Taming of
a Shrew," is known to have been a Pembroke play ; that
another, " Hamlet," is suspected to be ; 2 that the title of the
third, " Hester and Ahasuerus," suggests a type of play popu-
lar in the 80's rather than the 90's ; and that Mr. Fuller has
given strong reasons for questioning the Shakespearean author-
ship of " titus and Ondronicus," we certainly have cause to
consider seriously whether Mr. Fleay is not right in saying
that by June, 1594, the Chamberlain's men had gained in
some way the right to act a group of Pembroke plays.3
Evidence to be examined will strengthen the suspicion aroused.
But how could this play have passed to the Earl of Derby's
men? A company of that name was acting between 15784
and September, 1593, when the Earl died and Lord Strange
succeeded to the title. If given by this company, the An-
dronicus play must have been presented between September,
1593, and April 16, 1594, when the new Lord Derby died.
His company shortly after passed under the patronage of
the Lord Chamberlain. Now, on September 28, 1593,
Henslowe wrote to Edward Alleyn, who, since the spring,
had been traveling in the country with the Lord Strangers
men — the plague in the city had closed the theatres — that
the Pembroke men, unable "to save their charges," had
been hanging about the city for some six weeks in hard case,
" fain to pawn their apparel."5 Anyone conversant with the
history of the Elizabethan stage knows that when companies
were in sore straits their plays found their way into print
and into the hands of other companies. Who more likely to

1 Memoirs of Alleyn, chap. in.

2 Chronicles of the English Drama, I, p. 33.

3 Idem, p. 134.

* Records of Nottingham, B. Quaritch, under 1578.
5 J. P. Collier, Memoirs of E. Alleyn, p. 32.

TITUS AND ONDRONICU8. 69

take plays and apparel in pawn than the usurious Henslowe,
ever ready to grasp a business opportunity ? Whether the
Pembroke men went completely to pieces or not does not
affect this argument, though it is to be noted that in the
present somewhat incomplete investigation of the movements
of theatrical companies between 1590 and 1600, we have no
trace of Pembroke's men between 1593 and 1596. It seems
to me very possible that Henslowe acquired the play and
then allowed the Earl of Derby's company to give it at some
time between the 1st of October, 1593, and the 1st of
January, 1594,1 for that he owned certain plays himself
which he let the different companies occupying his theatre
present will be clear to anyone who studies, for instance, the
entries in his Diary as to the Jew of Malta. On the 23rd
of January, 1594, the Sussex men produced "titus and
ondronicus" with Henslowe's troublesome "ne" against
it. The entries in the Diary for the Sussex plays 2 look a
little as if a somewhat limited repertory did not pay very
well, and so Henslowe brought forth his piece de resistance
in all times of theatrical need 3 — the Jew of Malta — and this
novelty, Titus Andronicus. I do not believe, however, that
it was anything more than a revamping of the old Pembroke
and Derby "Andronicus," for anyone who has carefully
studied the Diary knows that the mysterious "ne" most often
means nothing more than an old play revised to make it
pass as a novelty. See, for instance, the entries in regard to
Henry VI.4

The passing of the play to the Lord Chamberlain's men is
easy to trace. The last entry for it was on June 12, 1594,
when the Lord Admiral and the Lord Chamberlain's men
were at the Newington Butts theatre. It is to be noted, as
Mr. Fleay has pointed out,5 that after the entry of June 13th

1 Time must be allowed for the revamping considered ten lines beyond.
*Diary, p. 33. *Idem, pp. 20-36.

4 Idem, p. 22 et seq., and Miss Jane Lee, Trans. N. Sh. So., 1876.

5 History of the Stage, p. 140 ; Diary, p. 36, note 2.

70 GEORGE P. BAKER.

Henslowe drew a line, and that after that date the plays
"Andronicus," " Hamlet," and "The Taming of a Shrew/7
two of these certainly originals of Shakspere plays, disappear
from the list, though the " Jew of Malta " and other of the
earlier plays are repeatedly given thereafter. The interpreta-
tion naturally is that Henslowe's words "beginning at New-
ington " l apply only until the last entry before the line, and
that after June 13th the two companies separated, the Admiral's
men going to the Rose or some more popular theatre. The
immediate and sustained increase after June 13th in receipts
for plays already given supports this theory.

A letter of Lord Hunsdon of October 8, 1594,2 shows us
that by that date the Chamberlain's men were seeking to act
at the Cross Keys in Gracious Street, when, by Heuslowe's
Diary,3 we know that the Lord Admiral's company was act-
ing in a theatre under Henslowe's management, presumably
the Rose. The plays which the Admiral's men were giving
were those carried beyond the line by Henslowe, with the
addition of some novelties. The total disappearance of the
Titus Andronicus play would seem to show that it had passed
out of Henslowe's hands. It should be remarked that proba-
bly the Chamberlain's men had already used this play as my
Lord Derby's men. If they had liked it, it would be natural
for them to buy it. No argument against this can be made from
the small receipts of the last two performances of" andronicous"
noted by Henslowe, for until the line was reached not even a
new play could bring more than 17 sh., but after it was passed
all the receipts increased decidedly. This argument, based on
well-known theatrical customs of Elizabeth's day, shows, then,
that the entries may mean that a Titus Andronicus play came
into the hands of the Lord Chamberlain's men after it had
passed successively from Pembroke's men, its original posses-
sors, to Lord Derby's men and the Earl of Sussex'.

lDiary, p. 35.

8 F. G. Fleay, History of the Staye, p. 134. 3 Diary, p. 43.

TITUS AND ONDRONICUS. 71

But how did this play get over to Holland ? In February,
1591, R. Jones, R. Browne and others are known to have
arranged a trip to Holland, Zeeland, etc.1 They and Edward
Alleyn in 1583 were members of the Earl of Worcester's
company.2 In January 1588—89 we find Edward Alleyn
buying out the share of R. Jones in plays, costumes, and
belongings of the Worcester company, owned in common by
Browne, Jones, John Alleyn, and Edward Alleyn.3 That
is, then, Browne in 1590 probably still controlled some of
the Worcester plays. He and his companions were, too,
men of experience in theatrical matters. In such ventures
as theirs they would of course equip themselves with all
the most recent successes, and they could have had little diffi-
culty in obtaining the right of foreign production for plays
which they would never have been allowed by the owners to
give in London itself. In this way the original of D, suc-
cessively a Pembroke, Derby, Sussex, Chamberlain play, could
have found its way to Holland.

Now what of the original of G ? In the first place, the
short list of characters as compared with S or D, the fact that
in G some of the figures are known by titles only, and the
greater simplicity of the plot suggest, unless the play was
very greatly changed after it came into Germany, an earlier
date for the original of G than for the original of D. I sus-
pect that the original of G was a play of the early 80's and
that it went over to Germany with the group of actors to
which Pope and Bryan belonged. They were at the court of
Saxony in 1586.4 By 1593, or earlier, both Pope and Bryan
had become members of Lord Strange's company at the Rose.5
This " tittus and Vespacia," the original of G, might have
been originally a Leicester, Worcester or Queen's play.

JA. Cohn, Shakespeare in Germany, pp. xxviii-ix. K. Browne and a com-
pany had been at Leyden in October, 1590, p. xxxi.

2 W. Kelly, Notices of Leicester, p. 212.

3 J. P. Collier, Memoirs of Alleyn, p. 198.

* A. Cohn, Shakespeare in Germany, pp. xxiv— xxv.

5 J. O. Halliwell-Phillipps, Illustrations of Shakespeare, I, 33.

72 GEORGE P. BAKER.

Alleyn's connection with Lord Strangers company in 1593
would have given it a chance to use the Worcester plays to
which he had rights. It is now pretty generally accepted, I
believe, that the Leicester men passed under the patent of
Lord Strange on the death of the Earl of Leicester in 1588.2
That plays of at least one of the two Queen's companies were
used by Lord Strange's men in 1592-93 may be seen from
pages 20-28 of Henslowe's Diary and from what is known
of Robert Greene.

If, then, in June, 1594, the Chamberlain's men acquired
the right to use the " titus and Ondronicus," they must have
possessed in it the original of D, and in their old " tittus and
Vespacia," the original of G. Here, then, are just the con-
ditions preceding Shakspere's Titus Andronicm at which
Mr. Fuller has arrived by a study of the internal evidence of
the last play and the German and the Dutch Titus plays.
The corroboration that the external and the internal evidence
give each other is at least striking.

But why is it necessary, it may be asked, to refuse to believe
that the so-called new " titus and Ondronicus," given by the
Sussex men January 23, 1594, was not Shakspere's play as
we have it to-day ? In the first place, we have no evidence
of any connection before 1600 between Shakspere and other
companies than the Lord Strange's and the Chamberlain's
men, and they are practically the same company. Secondly,
if we try to assume that Henslowe may have called in Shak-
spere to rewrite this play for him, we must remember that
Shakspere was not merely a writer but also an actor, and that
his company, Lord Strange's, was in the provinces during the
plague which closed the theatres from April 28, 1593, to the
end of December, and that it is not heard of in London until
June 3, 1594.3 The strong probability is that he was with his

1 J. O. Halliwell-Phillipps, Illustrations of Shakespeare,— as to Alleyn's
presence in the company at this date.

*S. Lee, Shaketpeare, p. 35.

3 F. G. Fleay, Hittory of the Stage, p. 94; J. P. Collier, Memoirs of Alky n,
pp. 25-33.

TITUS AND ONDRONICUS. 73

company at this time. Thirdly, Henslowe had been producing
a set of plays totally different from those of Lord Strange's
company or of any of the companies which immediately
thereafter were in his theatre. Evidently it was the regular
repertory of the Sussex men. So shrewd a man as he would
not tempt the public first, when the regular repertory began
to lose its attraction, by producing entirely new plays. He
would, as Henslowe did, fall back on an old favorite from
his own list of plays, the " Jew of Malta," l or on revamping
old plays, such as I hold this " titus and Ondronicus " to be.
Moreover, that this last named play is not a making over of
" tittus and Vespacia " seems clear to me for two reasons :
first, the " and " in the title, and secondly, the abbreviation
of the play in later entries to " Andronicus " instead of
" Titus." 2 A man who had known and helped to produce a
" tittus and Vespacia " might easily be led, if as illiterate as
Henslowe, into accepting " titus and Ondronicus " as a fitting
title to distinguish it from " tittus and Vespacia," but surely
if the " tittus and Vespacia " had merely been made over into
a "Titus Andronicus" he would not have made any such dis-
tinction. If it be said that the " and " is a mere slip, and that
" tittus and Vespacia " had become a part of " titus and
Ondronicus," why does Henslowe, who wrote with difficulty
and abbreviated his titles after a first entry with the greatest
care, choose the long and difficult name to write, "Androni-
cus," for the short name to which he was well accustomed,
" Titus " ? It seems to me this shows that he meant to
keep clear in his Diary the accounts for two plays with titles
so similar that they were likely to cause confusion.

Moreover, I think the remaining external evidence supports
the theory that " titus and Ondronicus " is a play distinct from
Shakespeare's. There was entered to J. Danter, February 6,
1593-94, "A Noble Roman Historye of Tytus Andronicus,"
and, immediately below, " the ballad thereof." 3 Now there

1 Diary, p. 33. * Idem, pp. 35, 36.

3Arber, Stationers1 Eeguter, ir, 644.

74 GEORGE P. BAKER.

is no way of showing whether the first entry is for a play or a
history, or that it stands for " titus and Ondronicus," properly
shortened. Secondly, the only existing ballad on Titus An-
dronicus, given in Percy's Reliques, is not dated, and there is
no proof that it and the ballad entered are one and the same.
A successful revamping of the story by Shakespeare after
June, 1594, would probably have called forth a new edition of
the ballad closely following the details of his play. Thirdly,
Langbaine's statement that there was a 1594 edition of Titus
Andronieus ] counts for little, for no copy is extant, or else-
where recorded ; and his assertion that the title-page stated
that the play had been given by the companies of the Earls
of Derby, Pembroke, and Essex sounds like a faulty remem-
brance of the title-page of the 1600 edition, for the order is
wrong, one company is omitted, and Sussex must be meant
by Essex, for no Essex company can be traced after 1587.
If, too, it be held that a passage in A Knack to Know a Knave,
entered and printed in 1594, must refer to Shakespeare's play,
we get into a curious tangle. The passage reads : —

Osrick : My gracious lord, as welcome shall you be,
To me, my daughter, and my son-in-law,
As Titus was unto the Roman senators,
When he had made a conquest on the Goths ;
That in requital of his service done,
Did offer him the imperial diadem.
As they, in Titus, we in your grace, shall find
The perfect figure of a princely mind.2

Naturally, this play should refer to "tittus and Vespacia,"
for it was produced side by side with it,3 was not given after
January 13, 1593, and was entered for printing January 7,
1594.4 " Titus and Ondronicus " — which for the moment we
shall treat as Shakespeare's — was produced as new January

lEnglish Dramatic Poets, p. 464, ed. 1691. He does not say that he saw
the edition.

2 Hazlitt's Dodsley, vi, 572.

*Diary, pp. 28-30. 4Arber, Stationers' Eegister, n, 643.

TITUS AND ONDRONICUS. 75

23, 1594. On the other hand, more is made in D and S than
in G of presenting the control of the state to Titus, and only
in D and S does Titus conquer Goths.1 In G he overcomes
the Ethiopians. Either, then, the passage refers to an original
of G in which the Ethiopians were Goths, or it refers to an
earlier form of " titus and Ondronicus." Finally, when, on
April 19, 1602, Thomas Millington assigned his rights to
certain books to T. Pavier, " Titus and Andronic" was among
them. On August 4, 1626, Pavier's widow assigned rights to
E. Brewster and R. Birde. Again " Titus and Andronicus "
appears. On November 8, 1630, Birde assigned his rights to
" Titus and Andronicus," among other books, to R. Cotes.2
In 1600 and 1611 Edward White printed the first and the
second extant editions of Shakespeare's Titus Andronicus.
Mr. Arthur Symons, in his introduction to the Praetorius
reprint of Titus Andronicus, says : " It is difficult to ac-
count for the fact that a book which in 1602 was the property
of Thomas Millington should in 1600 have been printed for
Edward White, and that, after the transference of the copy-
right from Millington to Pavier, a second edition of the same
book should have been printed in 1611 for the same Edward
White. No edition with Millington's name on the title has
yet been found." 3 But does not all this clear up in the light
of the theory already advanced ? E. White held the rights
to Shakespeare's play ; Millington, who had printed " The
True Tragedy," a Pembroke play which came to him in 1594,
owned this other Pembroke play, and in his 1602 assignment
to Pavier called it, as it was called in Henslowe's Diary,
" Titus and Andronicus." Note that this and appears in all
the successive assignments. It is worth remarking, too, that
in the 1626 assignment of Pavier' s books he gives over all his
rights to Shakespeare's plays as a set,4 but that " books " on
"Titus and Andronicus," "Hamlet," and "Henry V" are

1 See Mr. Fuller's parallel summaries.

2 Stationers' Register, in, 204 ; iv, 164 ; iv, 242.

3 Page v. 'Stationers' Register, iv, 164.

76 GEORGE P. BAKER.

mentioned separately. We know there was a non-Shakes-
pearean play on Hamlet ; we know, too, that Millington, who
assigned to Pavier, published a garbled " Henry V " ; l we sus-
pect that he owned the non-Shakespearean "Titus Andronicus."
The external evidence, then, both of the Diary and of the
Stationers' Register seems to support Mr. Fuller's theory.

I agree heartily, then, with Mr. Fuller that two plays,
"Titus and Vespacia," the original of G, and "Titus An-
dronicus," the original of D, in the hands of the Lord
Chamberlain's company by perhaps late June, 1594, were
made over by Shakspere at some time after June 15th, 1594,
and before September 7th, 1598,2 into the play which stands
under his name. In closing, it is well worth noting that
to accept the interpretation here advanced, that is, to put
the original of G before 1586, the original of D between
1588 and 1590, a revamped Titus and Vespacia in April,
1591-92, a revamped Titus Andronicus in January, 1594,
and Shakspere's final working over of the two plays after
June 15, 1594, is to corroborate the words of Ben Jonson
in Bartholomew Fair : " He that will swear Jeronimo or
Andronicus are the best plays yet, shall pass unaccepted at
here [in Oct., 1614] as a man whose judgment shows it is
constant and hath stood still these five and twenty or thirty
years." Even as far back as 1585 the story of Titus had
been staged.

GEORGE P. BAKER.

1 P. Daniel, N. Sh. So., Hen. V., p. x.

2 When the Palladia Tamia of Meres was entered in the Stationers? Register.

III.— THE NEW FUNCTION OF MODERN
LANGUAGE TEACHING.1

As teachers of the modern languages, in our survey of our
own Association and of the American university system, we
must all feel a certain warmth of exhilaration. The progress
that our favorite studies have been making is so splendid.
Within that period of forty years which the memory of older
men among us can now cover, and, for the younger men, in
each of the periods into which those forty years could be
divided, there has been, in a steady current of progress, so
vast an improvement in our methods of instruction, so vast
an increase in the magnitude of our work, in the number of
our pupils, in the size and qualification of our professorial
force. In the national movement of thought and theory in
education, we have shared, indeed, with the physical sciences
in popular favour ; and even as compared with the physical
sciences themselves, the growth of instruction in the modern
languages has been, I think, the more rapid and the more
impressive. Excluded at first, or hardly recognized, as a
factor in liberal education, they have now made good their
position, in all grades of instruction, in school and college and
university. In generous proportion with the financial means
of each academic body, the work has from year to year been
more highly specialised. Almost everywhere, we have wit-
nessed the establishment of the natural division between
Romance and Teutonic philology, and between linguistics and
literature ; and almost everywhere we have witnessed, in
logical connexion with the same movement, the study of
English placed in its worthy position, as connecting link
between those great forces of literary culture that have formed

Address of the President of the Modern Language Association of
America, delivered December 28th, 1900.

78 THOMAS E. PRICE.

our speech and our literature. There is not, I think, in the
world a country where the boy or the girl, born into the use
of one of the great modern languages, can move onward more
easily and more surely into the knowledge and enjoyment of
two or three others.

There has been, indeed, in this wide enthusiasm of our day
for the spreading and elevation of modern language instruc-
tion, an intellectual movement that may fairly be compared
with the enthusiasm in the days of the renaissance, which
made for the study of Latin and Greek as the main instru-
ment of human culture. There has been the same devotion
of mind and heart, the same intense conviction, the same
triumphal movement of men's spirits toward the goal of a
special culture. Even in the masses of the people, that could
not share in the knowledge and the accomplishments that
they so keenly admired, there has been the same fervent be-
lief in this form of education, and the same generosity in
fostering it. The popular confidence in the results of our
modern language training has made itself felt in all regions
of our vast country, as part of the practical sense of our
people. The man that can speak French or German, or write
a letter, or read a book in either, enjoys almost the same
popular reverence as Holberg's young hero, among the Danish
villagers, for his ready command of the Latin pronouns. In
country villages I have found the same ardour for our special
studies as in great universities. No man that has shared in
this movement can fail to feel a noble joy in such a display
of energy and in such an achievement of results. And, in
our annual gatherings, as here this evening, in clasping one
another's hands and entering into the spirit of one another's
work, we must feel a high degree of professional pride in the
progress and advancement of those studies to which, as men
and as students, we have given our lives.

But of course, along with this sense of joyous progress,
there must come a sense of deepening responsibility. Where
so much has been given, there is much likewise to be required.

NEW FUNCTION OF MODERN LANGUAGE TEACHING. 79

And the pathetic confidence of the American public in the
results to be achieved by our modern language instruction
must move us deeply to self-examination. If the chief change
of the last forty years in our educational system has been the
ever growing importance of the modern language teaching,
then, while we may fairly claim a large share in whatever
progress is to be discovered in the national intelligence and
well-being, we must accept in like manner the responsibility
for whatever loss or enfeeblement of intellectual life may
show itself. We are bound, therefore, in making up, as it
were, our account for the close of the century, to balance evil
against good. We must observe, in the temper and mental
habits and modes of thought and feeling in our educated
classes, as well what has been lost as what has been gained
by the withdrawal of time and energy from other studies and
their concentration upon the modern languages.

In the vast changes of educational method, there have,
indeed, been many shiftings and readjustments among rival
studies. The physical sciences, for example, have claimed
and received a far more generous assignment of time in our
students7 busy lives. But, in the main, the chief change of
all has been the dropping out of Greek as obligatory study and
the substitution of English, French, and German. In this
gradual process of change, each of us that is of sufficient age
has taken his own share. Thus we can each recall the struggle
in committee or in faculty-meeting from which, for good or
for evil, this momentous change came forth. The years have
rolled on. Generations of our students have, under this change
of studies, passed forth into the world. The results, in many
forms, are before us. We can, therefore, gain much, I think,
by asking ourselves if the wide substitution of the modern
languages for Greek, as obligatory study, has resulted in all
the good and in just the good that we hoped.

From many points of view, the answer can be a proud and
joyous yes. First of all, as for the study of Greek itself, the
removal of Greek language and literature from the bondage

80 THOMAS E. PRICE.

of the curriculum and the conversion of them into a special
study for a special class of able and enthusiastic students has
shown itself to be a great intellectual progress. Ceasing to be
the bugbear of indifferent or disaffected students, the Greek is
become the darling study of those to whom it makes its all-
powerful appeal. Under the stimulus of this enthusiasm, the
study of Greek in our university life, the study of Greek
language, of Greek art and archaeology, and of Greek litera-
ture, has pushed itself forward into ever nobler achievement.
Thus, as we can all feel with a profound national pride, in
the very years in which Greek was ceasing to be an obligatory
study for the masses of our American student-body, the Greek
scholars of America, in all the highest labors of Greek phil-
ology, have won for themselves a place among the foremost
in the Greek learning of mankind. And, again, by the en-
larged study of the modern languages, we have greatly aug-
mented the average intelligence of our student-body. We
have made them far more familiar with those literatures,
English and foreign, that are shaping the future of our race.
We have set them in the historical movement of modern
thought. We have rendered them more capable of dealing,
as professional men, with the practical problems of their own
professions. We have opened for them freer access to that
fulness of specialised knowledge in which lies the secret of
professional success. Thus, on both sides, as it would seem,
the shifting of studies has been a national gain. And those
of us, therefore, that took part in bringing about this change
have almost all reasons for self-congratulation.

But, in this complex play of shifting influence, there is
one consideration that must make us anxious. In all ages
of modern culture it has been the special function of Greek
study to furnish, in all the modern nations, to all serious
students of literature, the models and the ideal of literary
form. The student, for example, that could enjoy his Homer
not only came to know the symmetrical and harmonious
development of the noblest story that ever formed itself in

NEW FUNCTION OF MODERN LANGUAGE TEACHING. 81

a human brain, but he gained likewise, in outline and in
personal experience, the principle of epic narrative; and, in
turn, as he read a speech of Demosthenes, or a dialogue of
Plato, or the turn of a story in Herodotus, or the movement
of an ode in Pindar, he gained, along with the content of
each special masterpiece, the definition and the practical con-
ception of a definite form of literary art. And, as best
of all training in literature, the student, when he mastered
a play of Sophocles, was gaining, along with the story itself,
a practical insight into that development of emotion into
action, into that shaping of character into personality, into
that sublime linking of human fate with human virtue
which make of dramatic poetry the . highest achievement
of man's intelligence. And from the days of the early
humanists on past the mid-epoch of our own century, this
influence of Greek literature upon the student-mind, in reve-
lation of literary form, went on deepening. It was this
influence that, acting through Coleridge and Shelley, through
Tennyson and Arnold, and Swinburne and Browning, gave
form and charm to the literature on which our century was
nourished. And, until this movement was checked, this
Greek influence, as essential part of university culture, acted,
more or less deeply, not only upon picked young men as a
special class, but upon all the college-bred men of our western
world. Wherever this Greek learning made itself felt, there
was the communication to the student-mind of the simplest
and most beautiful forms of literature. There was the
standard of comparison ; there was the sense of form. If
now this influence were checked, might there not arise for
our student-body, as a possible danger, the loss of literary
feeling, the loss of the delicate sense of literary form?
This is the thought that sobers and somewhat saddens our
feeling of triumph in the splendid progress of the modern
education.

It is here, then, that the weight of responsibility comes to
fall upon us as teachers of the modern languages. In win-
6

82 THOMAS R. PRICE.

ning, for our modern language-instruction, its place in college
and university, we are hound to see that, from this point also,
from the point of view of literary form, there shall come no
loss to our students7 intellectual life. We are bound so to
arrange our methods of study, so to choose among the in-
finite variety of modern writers, so to expound and interpret
the text that we are reading, that the acute sense of literary
form and the passionate love of literary form shall come
as surely from the study of modern models as they used to
corne from the study of the Greek models themselves. If we
have not done this, we have in so far failed of our highest
duty ; and in our failure we have wrought a damage to
our people and our civilisation.

And, in this mood of self-examination, there is much in
what we see of the American public, to make us fear lest, in
the mind of the educated classes there be in reality a growing
indifference to the charm of literary form. In lyrical poetry,
for example, if we compare our present stage of production
with the youthful poems of Bryant and the work of Poe,
there has been, I fear, a distinct loss in the practice and appre-
ciation of noble lyrical form. There was something, for ex-
ample, to give pain to lovers of great literature in learning
the other day, that, in assigning niches in our Temple of
Fame, the judges had not recognized the claim of that one
American poet upon whom nature had bestowed the sovereign
genius of lyrical expression. And the case stands more sadly
still with dramatic poetry. If it be true, as I think, that the
special glory in literature of the second half of our century
has been the quickening of the poetical drama in Scandinavia,
France, and Germany, into a novel and splendid form of
literature, it is somewhat painful to remember that, in this
highest movement of the century, the supreme test of artistic
form, our American poets have had such small ambition and
such small success. And in the more artistic forms of prose
literature, since the days of Motley as historian, of Hawthorne
as builder of romance, of Webster as master of oratorical form.

NEW FUNCTION OP MODERN LANGUAGE TEACHING. 83

the later century, among students trained in new methods, has
shown, I fear, a distinct loss not only in the power of produc-
ing exquisite prose but in cultivated capacity for enjoying it.
The men that have shown themselves as masters of prose are
not, for the most part, the men that are widely read ; and the
men that are most widely read owe their many millions of
readers to something else than their mastery of prose-form.
Thus, the novel, as that one form of literature which domi-
nates our century and takes so largely for us Americans the
place both of dramatic and of lyrical poetry, of sermon and
essay and satire, and even of Joe Miller and Baron Munchhausen
as types of literary art, achieves its most brilliant successes in
books, often fascinating in material, in novelty of incident or
in analysis of character, that from the point of view of artistic
form are faulty in constructive plan and deeply corrupting to
literary taste. Thus, if we test the power of the modern edu-
cation either by the artistic skill of our men of literature in
creative art, or by the enthusiasm of appreciation in our many
millions of educated readers, there is, I fear, made visible, as
compared with earlier times, a weakening in the sense of
literary form. Giving so much else, and giving so richly,
our modern education does not seem as yet to give either the
power to produce models of literature or the cultured taste for
enjoying them.

Thus, in this condition of the popular mind, there is the
supreme need for us to supply that element of instruction
which seems to be lacking. As teachers of modern literature
through the medium of modern languages, we should aim
more and more at the ideal which the teaching of Greek
literature so fully attained. This, above all, is the function
that the movement of thought in the American people has
now assigned to the teaching of the modern languages.

In this endeavor, there is one truth of educational method
that should guide our striving to reach and to educate the
faculty of gesthetical enjoyment. The sense of literary form,
as apart from the knowledge of facts contained in the modern

84 THOMAS K. PRICE.

text, arises in the minds only of those students that are so far
advanced in their studies as to be able to read the language
itself at once with ease and with accuracy. With grammar
and lexicon at his elbow, the reader may understand the mean-
ing of much that he so laboriously works out. He may attain
grammatical accuracy in his knowledge of the language itself.
He may, in favorable cases, under a careful teacher, even reach
a fluent and correct pronunciation. But to attain to the sense
of literary form, to feel the purely aesthetic delight of perfect
harmony in the construction and development of the literary
model, he must be able to read freely, to read without painful
effort, and yet to read with sharp insight into the emotional
movement of situation and character. Here then lies for us,
as I believe, for our practical guidance, the final goal of our
teaching. Our students need, in approaching the masterpieces
of literature, not only the grammatical knowledge of the lan-
guage in question, not only the facts of biography and history
that connect themselves with the special work, but above all
the power and the habit of fluent and unimpeded reading.
And this, to be frank, is just what I find too seldom even among
my graduate students. As they read with difficulty and so
slowly, there is not for them, in contact with the model of
literary form, the keen flash of intellectual insight, the warm
throb of emotional response.

So soon as this ease in reading is attained, then the reading
itself should, for the purpose of the higher culture, be sought
only in such works of modern literature as are in themselves
exquisite models of literary form. Each text read or recom-
mended for reading should, for this purpose, be chosen as
example of some definite form of literature. And each text
thus chosen should be studied not only for its beauty of style
in details of composition, but more deeply in its artistic unity
of construction, in the definite relation of the separate parts
to the complete design.

Thus, in the proper course of reading in literature and for
literature, there must be, I think, the almost complete surrender

NEW FUNCTION OF MODERN LANGUAGE TEACHING. 85

of the too common practice of reading scraps and fragments.
Volumes of such scraps are, I think, to be looked upon as
almost the deadliest foe to the sense of literary form. A single
poem, of course, if complete in itself, is an artistic unity, fit
to be studied. A well-constructed essay, however short, or a
brilliant story, however briefly told, if the connexion of part
with part be achieved with proper skill, may be in itself a
complete lesson in beauty of form. But the work to be read,
whether short or long, if worthy to be read at all as example
of literature, should be read not in extracts nor in specimen,
but in its organic unity of artistic composition.

And, for the same great purpose, the notes, if any, that
accompany the printed text and the running commentary that
we give in the class-room upon the text that we are inter-
preting, should be so framed as to be a steady and luminous
revelation of literary form. In examining many such vol-
umes of notes, I have been struck, amid the abundance of
annotations on points of grammar and lexicography, on history
and biography and all kinds of miscellaneous knowledge, by
the scantness and inadequacy of literary interpretation. And
yet such notes and comments on literary form may be for
many minds the first awakening of the sense of beauty in
literature. I can remember, for example, from my own youth,
with what a wild rapture of delight and discovery I came in
Schneidewin's edition of Sophocles upon his lucid setting
forth of the organic plan of a Greek tragedy, of the relation
between chorus and dialogue and of the ordered movement
in the sequence of action. And I love to recall that happy
morning, when by the skillful touch of my own Greek master,
in dealing with a lovely story from Herodotus, my vision was
suddenly uplifted from the mysterious movements of a con-
tract verb in Ionic Greek, to take in that exquisite movement
of sentences by which, in revealing scene and actor and action,
the great artist had created the model of all narrative art.
And so, in dealing with any text that has the value and
distinction of a true literary form, it is, I think, the highest

86 THOMAS E. PRICE.

function of the teacher to train and develop the sense of
beauty. Let him reveal the generic idea of the book as a
work of literature, the proportion and symmetry of the organic
parts, and the constructive plan by which artistic unity is
attained. It is only in this way, as I believe, that our teaching
of the modern literatures can be made effective as a vigorous
training in the appreciation of literary form and in the laws
of beauty. A series of texts so well chosen as to exhibit the
various forms of literature in passing from the simpler to the
more complex, and each text so treated as to reveal in that
special form the laws of artistic harmony in grouping and
composition — there would be, as I hope and believe, the full
power of the modern languages displayed in training the soul
to the love and appreciation of literature.

From this point of view, for the more complete attainment
of this ideal of modern language instruction, there is one
advance in our methods that is most warmly to be urged.
So long, of course, as we have regard to practical purposes
alone, the mother-tongue must claim the highest place in
order of usefulness, and next to that, for English-speaking
nations must come the German and the French. These
are for us, in our day and country, the most important
as equipment for life and study and professional success.
But so soon as we admit for our more advanced pupils
the higher claim of the training in literary form, it is plain
that we all have a special need of the great Italian models
of literature. For it is in those Italian models that European
culture made the transition from the antique to the modern
form of literature. It is in watching the growth of those
Italian forms, that we first become conscious of the modern
ideals of literature, and qualify ourselves as critics to trace
the development of the separate forms from the Italian
stage on to our own. In this way, the great Italian prose
of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries has its immense
value for all students of style. And, in poetry, the form
created by Dante, by Tasso and Ariosto and by Petrarch

NEW FUNCTION OF MODERN LANGUAGE TEACHING. 87

became for all the western races, in their own awakening
to literature, the supreme model of beauty. For me, there-
fore, the worst blemish in our modern practice of education
is, under the pressure of other studies, that neglect of the
Italian as an element of culture which has, within the last
fifty years, as well in England as in America, made itself
felt. And, if the study of modern languages is ever to be
made to yield its full harvest, we should, I feel sure, unite
in restoring the Italian to its rightful place in the develop-
ment of the sense of form. For it is thus that our students,
in their philosophic studies of literature, can best be brought
to learn how, by what changes, in what details of construction
and what movement of spiritual forces, there came out of
the classic form the modern, or Romance form, of literature.
Think, for example, for the young man that knows his
Virgil what is the splendour of intellectual vision that must
spring from knowing Tasso ! Consider how, in successive
ages, with what inevitable result, for Chaucer's age, for
Surrey's, for Shakspere's, for Milton's, for Shelley's and for
Browning's, the study of Italian form has given to our
English poetry the final touch of perfection. There is not,
as I believe, in all the range of modern language instruction,
any other modern literature that can do for the student's
sense of beauty just that which the Italian has never failed
to do. And upon our age, especially, in which the sense
of artistic form has somehow been unduly dulled, the great
Italian models, in their supreme lucidity and harmony of
plan and proportion, would work with benign magic upon
the temper and minds of our students.

In the like spirit, the literature of the other great races
should, I think, be presented to our young men, as part of
their aesthetic culture, chiefly in those consummate models
of the several forms of literature in which each race has
found the highest expression of its own artistic nature.
In this there cannot be, of course, any full agreement among
even ourselves as to what should be taken and what rejected.

88 THOMAS R. PRICE.

For taste itself, in its judgment of literature, is so deeply
modified by the sympathies and traditions of race, as to
dispose us all too much to see the highest charm of litera-
ture in that which our own special studies and race affinities
make the most precious to each one of us. But yet, as
to some main points, there would be, I think, a general
agreement. If, for example, we admit the intellectual loss
that falls on those that are cut off from personal contact
with the highest prose-art of mankind, the prose of De-
mosthenes and of Plato, we should all, I think, be prone
to urge upon our pupils the careful and elaborate study
of the modern French prose, as being the best equivalent
that modern art has produced for the matchless beauty of
the Greek form. Here, on the modern side, our students
would find the closest approach to the clearness and lucidity
of the Greek prose manner, to its harmony of phrasing and
its exquisite neatness in junctures and transitions.

On the other hand, should we wish to compensate our
pupils on the modern side for their ignorance of the pure
lyrical form of classical poetry, in order to lift them above
the formlessness and triviality of many modern styles, there
would, I think, be a general agreement among us in urging
upon them as models the masterpieces of German and Scandi-
navian lyricism. For here, in the consummate work of the
great masters, in Goethe for example, or in Oehlenschlager,
or in Heine or Meyer, or in Baggesen, we have as models a
lyrical form that is as lucid and as sharply defined as the
Greek form itself. And, as in the Greek, we have the lyrical
conception brought before us in forms of language so intensely
clear and pure, as to flash forth, like the Greek, all the concrete
force of the metaphoric phrase. As the perfect form of the
great French prose would be, for our advanced students, the
best training in those forms of literary art that develop the
process of reasoning, so the perfect form of the Teutonic
lyricism would serve as the best models for them in the pro-
cess of the imagination. And in general, for the cultivation

NEW FUNCTION OF MODERN LANGUAGE TEACHING. 89

of this sense of beauty in literary form, each of the great
modern languages should, I think, be studied in those models
of literature that have most of the special character of the
race itself, that are most in harmony with its intellectual and
emotional nature.

And there is, I think, to make this mode of instruction
fruitful, in our young men themselves, as we see them in our
universities, an intense eagerness for personal expression in
literature, and for the personal achievement of literary form.
We cannot read our college magazines without seeing how
intense and eager is this craving for the personal note in
literature. And it will aid us in our effort to develop the
sense of beauty if we watch the two directions in which the
student-mind is bent on achieving literary form. They are,
I think, on the one hand, the personal lyric as the poetical
form that is much admired, and on the other the short story
as artistic form in prose. In comparison with these two types
of literature, it is somewhat strange to see how seldom the
other forms are tried, as for example, the narrative poem or
the drama, or the essay or the historical sketch. In my own
experience I have known, I think, of only three bright young
students that made a serious assault on the drama ; a some-
what bewildering contrast with that early age of our century,
when every young man of university education had a bundle
of tragedies secreted in his desk or on his person. It is, I
think, by following this bent of our American student-mind
that we teachers of the modern literatures can do our best
work in guiding to literary form. It is almost always the
modern spirit, the spirit of our contemporary art, that has
for bright young minds the highest stimulus of contagion.
And, if it is often sad to see how deeply the creative force of
young imaginations is corrupted by the badness and formless-
ness of those popular models that they are prone to imitate,
there should be among us the greatest eagerness to bring
before our advanced students, out of the modern literatures
that we are teaching, each in the language that is dearest to

90 THOMAS E. PRICE.

himself, those perfect examples of lyrical form and of the
short prose story that might open their eyes to the possibilities
of the two forms that they most admire. It is sure, I think,
that, if we made a fuller and more constant use of that
boundless wealth of beautiful types which is found in the
great modern literatures of our time, we should see the minds
of our students catch fire more generously, and the creative
force, of their own imaginations work itself into nobler forms.
And finally, from this contact of the student-mind, under
our guidance, with the living forces of modern Europe, there
is to come, as the reward of our combined labors, the new
movement in our own literature. In this, of course, the
literature of England must as always play a great part. But
the social and industrial conditions under which English
literature takes shape are too much like our own to make
such influence in the highest degree fruitful. There are to
be noted in the literature produced by Englishmen of our
time the same faults and especially the same indifference to
literary form as in the literature produced by Americans.
Thus, as compared with English models, the models of the
best contemporary literature in several of the foreign languages
offer us more of interest and of hope. It is the very differ-
ence that makes the foreign masterpieces the more potent.
Above all, it is the deeper feeling for literary form, it is the
more penetrating sense for beauty of construction and for
purity of type. We have spoken of the specially French
beauty in the modern prose, of the specially Teutonic beauty
in the German and Scandinavian lyricism. But it is above
all in watching the dramatic movement of our age, which has
been its highest intellectual manifestation, that we become
aware of the need of closer contact with the great foreign
literatures. The splendour of the modern drama, the most
effulgent that has shone on Europe since the days of Shak-
spere and Moliere, in order to reach the students' minds, must
be studied not in English so much as in the Scandinavian
languages, in German, and in French. And, in lil^e manner,

NEW FUNCTION OF MODERN LANGUAGE TEACHING. 91

in spite of our enormous production of novels and romances,
it is the great masters of the French and Russian schools that
reveal to our age most luminously the laws of literary form
in romance and novel.

Here then, in the revelation and indoctrination of literary
form, is the great task to be achieved by us as teachers of the
modern languages. We are to keep always in sight the
supreme importance of the form of literature. And we are
to present each model of literature in such a manner to our
classes as to exhibit, so far as we can, that charm of pure
form by which each special work becomes in its own special
way a type and model of beauty.

THOMAS R. PEICE.

IV.— THE PROBLEMATIC HERO IN GERMAN
FICTION.

Among Goethe's Spruche in Prosa we find the following
maxim : " Es giebt Problematische Naturen, die keiner Lage
gewachsen sind, in der sie sich befinden, und denen keine
genug thut. Darum entsteht der ungeheure Widerstreit, der
das Leben ohne Genuss verzehrt."

Written late in the Altmeister's career, appearing for the
first time on the forty-ninth page of the forty-ninth volume
of his posthumous works, the maxim expresses the practical
wisdom of a sage, who calmly surveys his long life and
experience. It does more. It is a formula, that denotes the
composition of a certain type of character, discovered by a
keen observer of human life. It goes still farther. It pro-
nounces dispassionately the inevitable doom of the type in
its struggle for existence. Finally, the maxim offers the solu-
tion of a psychological problem to which Goethe devoted a
lifetime, and which he never tired of illustrating or amplifying.

The problem is this : What is the explanation of the
tragic course of so many lives, on which Nature seems so
bountifully to have bestowed her gifts? They were amply
equipped for their battle of life, yet they failed utterly, their
hearts becoming filled with a pessimistic scorn of all human
existence. Were they opposed by an unpropitious fate, or
did the stars of their fateful destiny reside in their own
breasts? Goethe answers in terse but adequate phrase, ' they
are problematic characters, who are never equal to the situa-
tion in which they are placed, and whom no situation
satisfies. Therefore arises the terrible conflict that consumes
their lives without happiness/

The problematic person never realizes completely what is
demanded of him in the situation into which life places him ;
there is something in his nature that prompts him to act
92

THE PEOBLEMATIC HERO IN GERMAN FICTION. 93

contrary to what is reasonable and logical. On every im-
portant issue of life he wavers ; instead of acting at the deci-
sive moment he hesitates. He is, mayhap, an idealist, and
struggles against the tide of tradition and custom ; yet he
lacks the moral force and the will-power of the reformer,
who stems the current or diverts it. No situation in life
satisfies him, partly because he realizes his unfitness, and
partly because he believes in his secret heart that a real
opportunity has never been afforded him. He blames the
world for withholding from him his due. The result is a
conflict which consumes his life without happiness. The
world becomes "flat, stale, and unprofitable/7

Most of the pessimism expressed in literature arises from
the personal experience of problematic characters. Byron,
the pessimist of English literature, was born a nobleman
without adequate means, he lacked the moral qualities, per-
haps the ability to improve his condition. The martyrlike
pose of Weltschmerz appears nowhere to better effect than in
the works of Heine, who in his early career found himself
baffled in every pursuit, though he tried banking and learn-
ing and love. Lenau crossed the seas to find the place for
which he was fitted, and he went back again still bent on his
hopeless quest.

Goethe was conscious of the problematic elements of his
own character, and overcame them by the process of analysis.
He constructed poetic images of them and gave them life.
No type do we find more frequently in Goethe's works than
that of the problematic character ; there is a long gallery of
them, Werther, Eduard, Wilhelm Meister, Tasso, and Faust.
Why was Goethe enabled to understand so well the character
of Shakespeare's Hamlet, to give, in the words of Francis
Jeffrey, *' The most able, eloquent, and profound exposition
of the character of Hamlet, — that has ever been given to the
world ! " It was because he explained him essentially as
a Problematische Natur, as a man of thought forced into a
world of action, as a man not fitted to perform the duty

94 A. B. FAUST.

of blood-revenge to which he was called. Hence the terrible
conflict that poisoned his mind.

Goethe's first complete study of the type is his Werther.
Conscious of his own weakness, Werther exclaims: "Was!
Da wo andere mit ihrem bischen Kraft und Talent vor mir
in behaglicher Selbstgefalligkeit herumschwadronieren, ver-
zweifele ich an meiner Kraft, an meinen Gaben ? Guter
Gott, der du mir alles schenktest, warum 'hieltest du nicht die
Halfte zuriick und gabst mir Selbstvertrauen und Geniig-
samkeit ! " Self-confidence and contentment are lacking to
him, though he has talents in plenty. He is a giant in
thought and feeling, yet a pigmy in action.

The temper of the age finds expression in this character.
The sentimentalism of Richardson and Rousseau fell upon
good soil in Germany, where the pietistic movement had for
a century taught men to fly from the outer world, and take
refuge in the inner world of the soul. The spiritual became
the real life. The tendency toward mysticism and soul-life was
strengthened by the new and deeper analysis of emotion, and
the romantic worship of Nature. The sentimentalism that
resulted derived aesthetic pleasure from contemplation of
man's unhappy lot in the outer world. Weltschmerz arose
from a conviction that unhappiness in the outer world is the
fate of every being that thinks and feels. Yet this species
of self-torture had its compensations. The sentimentalist
was not disposed to change places with the self-satisfied
philistine, or with the rationalist, who was deprived of the
exquisite pain of the emotional rack, and must ever forego
the alleviating pleasures of a flood of tears.

The world of emotion being a law unto itself, it was not
governed by the standards of the world. Thus there was a
separation of the world of emotion from the world of action.
An action was not base when there was lofty sentiment to
balance it. Rousseau's father allowed his son to become an
outcast, so that he might himself enjoy the more unre-
strictedly a petty inheritance which the boy was entitled to

THE PROBLEMATIC HERO IN GERMAN FICTION. 95

from his mother. Yet the son excuses the action of a father,
whose tenderness and devotion were so well known to him,
and observes that we may become unjust and wicked in
action, without having ceased to be just and good in soul.1
The eloquence of Rousseau made it fashionable for women
of rank to nurse their own children, yet he sent his own to
the foundling hospital, blaming the existing social system
for it. A similar contradiction, a divorce of sentiment from
action is found in the character of Werther. He compares
suicide to theft by a man who steals bread to save his family
from starvation. Noble and grand in sentiment Werther is
puerile in action, if not selfish and cowardly. He is not a
complete man, for we associate with manhood the power to
become victorious in a moral struggle. This is the criticism
which the author himself has made of Werther, in a dedica-
tion to the second part, addressed to the reader : " Sieh, dir
winkt sein Geist aus seiner Hohle. Sei ein Mann und folge
mir nicht nach."

The frequency with which the problematic hero appears in
Goethe's works of fiction cannot be explained completely by
his theory of the novel. The better explanation is that
Goethe described that which he saw about him. There was
lacking for the leisure class of that time common interests,
the opportunity for activity in civil and political careers, a
training school for clear vision, sane judgment and manly
action. Spirituality, fine sentiment and beautiful thinking
were demanded of the minds that wished to rise above
mediocrity. Such are Edward in the Wahlverwandtschaften,
Meister and Lothario in Wilhelm Meisters Lehrjahre, — waver-
ing heroes, who are overcome in the conflict between passion
and duty, unless perhaps rescued by some secret fraternity,
that mysteriously controls their devious paths.

But in his dramatic works also Goethe has exhibited the
Problematische Natur. In lasso the emotional nature, the

1 Cf. J. E. Lowell, " Rousseau and the Sentimentalists." Literary Essays,
II, p. 248 f.

yb A. B. FAUST.

pathetic aspects of the sensitive soul lacerated by the thorns
and briars of the realistic world, are presented in that com-
pact and vivid manner, in which the drama ever excels
prose fiction, The author again points out the moral, when
he regrets that Nature did not forge the two divergent
characters Tasso and Antonio into one.

Next we find the central figure of the drama upon which
Goethe was at work three score years an example of the type
under discussion. The Faust of Part 1 fulfills all conditions
of the problematic character, and indeed appears more con-
sistent and possible psychologically when interpreted from
this point of view. The scholar and idealist of unquestion-
able sincerity suddenly turned libertine is a transformation
we cannot readily understand without having first become
acquainted with other members of the family to which he
belongs. Faust feeling the limitations of human knowledge
loaths the position which he occupies, in which he accuses
himself of having been insincere, of having led his scholars
up and down by the nose. He aspires to equality with the
creative spirits of Nature, but is hurled back upon his narrow
sphere by the Earth-spirit's rebuke : " Du gleichst dem Geist,
den du begreifst nicht mir." Reaching the verge of despair,
he is saved from suicide by a miracle, as it were, — by the
pure, uplifting strains of the Easter chorus. He becomes
once more a man among men, enjoying with them the simple
pleasures of an outing in the fields and open country. Under
the soothing influence of the twilight and evening, his soul is
at peace with God and man, but not long so to be, for the
growling and snarling of the dog that has accompanied him,
again stirs his skeptical mood. "Aber ach ! schon fiihP ich
bei dem besten Willen, Befriedigung nicht mehr aus dem
Busen quillen." The demon in the dog is discovered and
forced to reveal himself in his true character. Mephistopheles
outwits the magician, from whom is soon heard the full con-
fession of his life's misery :

THE PROBLEMATIC HERO IN GERMAN FICTION. 97

" Entbehren sollst du ! sollst entbehren !
Das ist der ewige Gesang,
Der jedem an die Ohren klingt,
Den, unser ganzes Leben lang,
Uns heiser jede Stunde singt."

Renunciation, resignation, these are the doctrines against
which Faust's hungry soul riots and rebels. Yet they are
the key-note of Goethe's ethical teaching. This revolt
against a life of self-denial constitutes him a problematic
character, he is not able, nor willing to yield to the stern
task of renunciation, which life imposes. The Sturm und
Drang, the titanic force within him will not stoop to such
"slave-morality." Pantheist that he is, he recognizes with
bitter disappointment that the portion of the divinity that
resides in him, is narrowly restricted in its sphere, and cannot
presume to measure its activity with the creative forces
of the universe.

" Der Gott, der mir im Busen wohnt,
Kann tief mein Innerstes erregen ;
Der liber alien meinen Kraften thront,
Er kann nach aussen nichts bewegen;
Und so ist mir das Dasein eine Last,
Der Tod erwiinscht, das Leben mir verhasst."

The taunt of Mephistopheles, that the philosopher had
lately not been true to his deductions, provokes Faust to
pronounce a curse upon the sweet recollections of childhood,
upon the inspiration of reverence that drew him back to life.
With that he names every object that man deems worthy to
live for and crushes it with his diabolical skepticism.

"So fluch' ich allem was die Seele
Mit Lock- und Gaukelwerk umspannt,
Und sie in diese Trauerhohle
Mit Blend- und Schmeichelkraften bannt !

Verflucht was uns in Traumen heuchelt,
Des Ruhms, der Namensdauer Trug !
Verflucht was als Besitz uns schmeichelt,

98 A. B. FAUST.

Als Weib und Kind, als Knecht und Pflug !

Verflucht sei Mammon, wenn mit Schatzen

Er uns zu kiihnen Thaten regt, . . .

Fluch sei dem Balsamsaft der Trauben !

Fluch jeuer hochsten Liebeshuld !

Fluch sei der Hoflhung ! Fluch dem Glauben !

Und Fluch vor alien der Geduld ! "

Having demolished with this terrible curse all that can
sustain man, the consistent action of Faust would have been
to destroy his own life and allow nothing to deter him from
this purpose; but like a drowning man catching at a straw,
he snatches the wager offered by Mephistopheles, consecrat-'
ing himself to the mad reel which the devil promises to put
in motion. Faust wills to satisfy his thirst for experience,
and after draining the cup of life to the dregs to suffer the
shipwreck to which man is doomed and die.

" Du horest ja, von Freud' ist nicht die Rede
Dem Taumel weih' ich mich, dem schmerzlichen Genuss, . . .

Und was der ganzen Menschheit zugeteilt ist,
Will ich in meinem innern Selbst geniessen, . . .
Und so mein eigen Selbst zu ihrem Selbst erweitern,
Und wie sie selbst, am End' auch ich zerscheitern."

The effect upon him is the development of the problematic
character, lofty in aspiration, grand in sentiment, but immoral
in action. Life's pleasures do not satisfy, they cheat and
tantalize him.

" So tauml' ich von Begierde zu Genuss,
Und im Genuss verschmacht* ich nach Begierde."

Yet in the second part of the drama, before the shipwreck
of death comes, the hero finds the moment that satisfies, and
bids it tarry, he discovers the situation in life which is fitting
for him, in which he feels peace and comfort, and thereby
ceases to be a problematic character. As has been pointed
out in Francke's Social Forces in German Literature, the
individualist has become the collectivist, the individual is

THE PROBLEMATIC HERO IN GERMAN FICTION. 99

engaged in a life of self-sacrifice in the interests of humanity
and therein finds happiness on earth.

The literary importance of Goethe became fully appre-
ciated for the first time through the writings of the Romantic
school. It was characteristic of them to go beyond apprecia-
tion and worship in Goethe the master whose every effort
was worthy of imitation. Prose fiction being the direction
in which the creative power of the Romanticists sought
expression, Goethe's Wilhelm Meister became the model which
was copied in every detail ; — in its theory of the passive
hero, opposed to the active hero of the drama, in its por-
trayal of events and sentiments in contrast to character and
deeds in the drama, and even in its unimportant features,
such as the interspersion of lyrics in the body of the text.
The Problematische Naturen naturally became the center of
their Erziehungsromane, and we need but name the William
Lovel of Tieck, Lucinde of Friedrich Schlegel, Florentin of
Dorothea Schlegel, Godwi of Brentano, to illustrate the rule
that imitations in literature are rarely successful. These
creations are problematic indeed ; their world of emotion is
separated entirely from their world of action, refusing to be
bound by moral law.

Similar to these are the so-called " Titans" of Jean Paul
Friedrich Richter, — idealists, to use the figurative language
of the author, who would make a cross-bow of the limitless
milky way, or of fancy's rain-bow, but lack the bow-string
to span the distance. Full of fine sentiment, thrilled with
grand ideals, they are depraved in action. The novel /Sieben-
kds contains such a character in the Armen-advocat Siebenkds,
who, married to a faithful, plodding wife, falls in love with
a woman whom he recognizes at once as his intellectual
equal, a Titanide. To become separated from his honest wife
he resorts to the scheme of pretending to be dead, sending an
empty coffin to be buried, meanwhile marrying his new lady
at a distant place. The fact that the forsaken wife is soon

100 A. B. FAUST.

consoled by the attentions of the school-inspector, does not
render the action of Siebenkds the less contemptible.

In the novel Titan, Roquairol and Linda are typical. In
describing the character of Roquairol, Jean Paul approaches
plastic delineation as closely as he has ever done. He speaks
of him to this effect : u Roquairol is a child and a victim of
the century. When yet boys, such as he have been prema-
turely gorged with pleasures and advanced ideas, for which
their natures were not yet fairly ripe. In consequence their
lives are soon burned out ; there exists for them no longer a
new pleasure or a new truth, and the old ones have not been
retained in their completeness or their freshness ; their future
lies an arid waste before them, harboring the ghosts of pride,
disgust, skepticism, and contradiction ; only the wing of
fancy still quivers on their corpses." Their lives, in a word,
are summed up in the lines of Faust : " So tauml' icli von
Begierde zu Genuss, und im Genuss verschrnacht' ich nach
Begierde."

The period of reaction in Germany, beginning with the
establishment of the Holy Alliance in 1815, and ending with
the Revolution of 1848, not only destroyed all hope of liberal
government and national unity, but more than ever deprived
the upper classes of a proper outlet for their activities in
public life. Even private enterprise on a large scale in
manufacturing or in commerce was checked by conservatism.
The rigid press censorship prohibited the discussion of the
problems of the day ; writers as those classed in 1835 under
the name "das junge Deutschland" finding their mouths
closed on the subject of political emancipation, fell to advo-
cating the emancipation of the flesh, and to breaking the
bonds of moral restriction. A more fertile soil for the growth
of problematic characters can hardly be imagined, with illus-
trations abundant in real life.

It is impossible within the narrow limits of this paper to
trace the history of the problematic character, following him
through the course of German fiction. All that can be done

THE PROBLEMATIC HERO IN GERMAN FICTION. 101

is to select a few of the more prominent types for closer
inspection.

The best delineator of the type among modern writers of
prose fiction is Friedrich Spielhagen, who betrayed in his
early career the influence of Gutzkow, himself a creator of
problematic heroes. Problematische Naturen was the title
of Spielhagen's first two-volume novel, published in 1860,
which pictured the age immediately preceding 1848. Pro-
fessor Berger and his pupil Oswald Stein are the avowed
problematic characters, but they are of a nobler type than
the titans of Jean Paul or the weaklings of the Romantic
period. These men also suffer from the malady We/tschmerz,
yet their pessimism is of a different kind from what we have
had before ; it is the pessimism reduced to a system, — that
of the founder of German pessimism, Arthur Schopenhauer.
The Weltschmerz of Byron was expressed in the lines :

"Count o'er the joys thine hours have seen,
Count o er thy days from anguish free,
And know, whatever thou hast been,
'Tis something better not to be."

This is a species of Weltschmerz arising from an arithmetical
calculation, which sums up all the ills that man endures, and
finds that the total outweighs man's total of happiness.
Most great minds have made the same computation with
similar results, and one who was singularly gifted with the
means of securing happiness, who was born when Jupiter
and Venus were in conjunction, declared that he could count
his perfectly happy days on his fingers. The pessimism
which we find now is a system of philosophy which recog-
nizes in the world but will and idea, subjects the human
world of action to a blind, ungoverned will, manifesting
itself in the will to live. Human free will being denied,
pain being the only positive experience, pleasure being the
absence of pain, the highest ideal of man becomes the denial
of the will to live, a refuge in the ascetic life, which is free

102 A. B. FAUST.

at once of the suffering as well as of the evanescent pleasures
of human existence.

This flight from the world is pictured in the life of Spiel-
hagen's Professor Berger, to whose intellectual greatness the
author does full justice, yet whose search after the realm
of Nirvana he in a manner travesties. Berger, Professor of
Philosophy at the University of Griinwald, one morning
ascends the lecturer's platform, and after discoursing in his
usual brilliant manner, suddenly, to the surprise and con-
sternation of his hearers, breaks off in the following manner :
" Do you know, gentlemen, what the youth of Sais saw,
when he lifted the veil, which covered the secret, the great
secret, that was to be the key to all the confused mysteries
of life? See gentlemen, I now take my head apart, one-half
in this hand, one-half in the other hand, — what do you see
in the head of the famous Professor Berger, at whose feet
you sit, listening to his words and copying them into your
stupid note-books with screeching pens, — what do you see?
Just the same that the youth of Sais saw, when he lifted the
veil of truth. Nothing, absolutely nothing. Nichts fur sich,
nichts an sich, an und fur sich : nichts ! And the fact that
this hollow, barren nothing is the essence of it all (des Pudels
Kern) drove the youth to madness, and will also upset your
reason, if you have any to overturn." The professor there-
upon requested his students to close their note-books and
join him in singing: 'Da sitzt eine Flieg' an der Wand/
during which he set to catching imaginary flies in the lecture-
room, every now and then opening his hand and exclaiming
triumphantly, "Do you see, — nothing, and again nothing?"
On the advice of his physicians, the professor goes to a
sanatorium (he is willing to go) there to pursue his researches
into the Urnichts. He is visited by his favorite pupil Oswald
Stern, who pleads with the professor to allow him to remain
in his company. < I despise the world as well as you/ he
exclaims. 'I know it well/ replies the master, ' but to
despise the world is only the first stage of three toward the

THE PROBLEMATIC HERO IN GERMAN FICTION. 103

great secret/ 'And what is the second stage ? Name it so
that I may traverse it at a bound/ ( Scorn yourself/ 'And
the third ?' 'Scorn being scorned ' (Verachten dass man
verachtet wird). 'And the great secret, what is it?' 'He
who has gone through the three stages, knows it and under-
stands it without asking. Who asks for it, knows it not, and
would not understand it.'

Oswald has had cause to despise the world for its social
distinctions. Later he cannot help despising himself for the
vacillating manner in which he bestows his affections, and
for the elopement with a married woman which results there-
from. Meeting the scorn of the world, he in turn scorns
being scorned, reaching thus the last stage toward the great
secret, that is, I take it, the denial of existence. The author
gives the career of master and pupil a worthy close. They
die defending the cause of freedom behind the barricades in
the streets of Berlin, in the March revolution of 1848.
Their fall is symbolical, coming before the dawning of the
new era. Such as the Baron Oldenburg, strong men who
have overcome that which was problematic in their own
characters, survive and enter a new and fitting field of action.

The criticism has been made of Spielhageu, that he has
always remained a painter of Problematische Naturen.1 This
is only half true, for he relieves these dark figures with
portraits of men and women that succeed and are a source
of hope and comfort. Moreover it must be admitted that
Spiel hagen has shown a master-hand in his delineations of
the problematic hero ; and no one since Goethe has succeeded
with them as well as he. Frequently they are men, such as
Leo in the novel In Reih und Glied (Rank and File), who
are full of new ideas, and attempt to become true to their
principles ; in this case social reform and the life of the
socialist Ferdinand Lasalle have supplied the basis of study.
Through lack of sustaining moral force, however, the hero

1 Bartels, Die Alien und die Jungen, p. 131.

104 A. B. FAUST.

loses sight of his aim and dies wretchedly. Spielhagen has
pictured the feminine type in Angela, the heroine being
pictured as the mirror of all that is adorable and attractive ;
yet in great measure in consequence of her skepticism, and
pessimistic cast of mind, she falls in a moral struggle.

A word should be said about the presence of the proble-
matic character in the most recent literature of Germany,
that modern Sturm und Drang period, the epoch of German
Naturalism, following in the wake of Zola, Tolstoi, and
Ibsen. If we examine for a moment the works of the ablest
exponent of the new literature, the dramas of Gerhart
Hauptmann, we notice that they teem with problematic
characters. Loth, the would-be social reformer, in Vor Son-
nenaufyang, and the whole family Scholtz, in Das Friedensfest,
are misfits, incompleted beings, scarcely human, doomed to
unhappiness. What a wasted effort on the part of Frau
Buchner and her daughter to rescue WiUjelm Scholtz ; with
all their kindness they will not be able to save him from
ultimate confinement in a mad-house. In the drama Einsame
Menschen, Johannes Vockerat, the central figure, by the read-
ing of a few scientific books, and the hearing of a few university
lectures has become a new man, fancying the coming of an
era of changed relations between man and woman, not
governed by old moral standards. For his rash act of
suicide he has thrown the blame on his worthy parents, —
narrow-minded, their son thinks, yet they are good hearts
and stable characters, and a mite of their religious faith
would have saved the son in his desperate conflict between
duty and the phantoms of his mind. In the dramas in
which Hauptmann is less under the influence of Ibsen and
has taken his independent course, we again find Proble-
matische Naturen ; for example, the decadent artist College
Crampton, the historical figure Florian Geier, the leader of
the peasant insurrection in the sixteenth century, who lacked
not the opportunity but the ability to make the best use of it.
Finally, in that beautifully imagined fairy-drama which has

THE PROBLEMATIC HERO IN GERMAN FICTION. 105

taken the world by storm, Die Versunkene Gfocke, Heinrich
the bell-founder belongs to the clas«. His dissatisfaction
with his life is typical, for he feels that his genius is not
adequate, the well-spring is not within him, or if it is, he
lacks confidence, like Werther ; he appeals to the super-
natural aid of the fairy world, and despairs unless thus
assisted. He is callous to the love and self-sacrifice of his
wife, leaves duty behind, calling it drudgery, and flies to an
ideal that transcends his power.

To do justice to the frequency with which the problematic
personages appear in German fiction cannot be attempted
within the limits of this paper. Our view might be
broadened by adding to our gallery Noras and Brands and
Anna Kare"ninas from foreign literatures. Our view would
be deepened by examining the life around us, observing the
professional man who has missed his calling, the artist but
half equipped for the great work before him, the wife whose
outside interests cause her to scorn the duties of her home.

The definition of Goethe traces the outlines of the problem-
atic character accurately. He is never equal to the situation
into which life has put him. He may lack confidence in him-
self and waver on all important occasions when action means
victory, he may be too fastidious in his tastes, or too lofty an
idealist ; at all events he is dissatisfied, thinking the world
has not afforded opportunity. His growing pessimism is apt
to scorn the world's moral laws, plunging the idealist into
libertinism, or at least weakening his will to correct his
deficiencies, or strive toward a realization of his ideals. In
the struggle for the survival of the fittest, the problematic
character invariably goes to ruin. The cosmic process tends
toward the perfection of human character. Strong character
we admire above talent, and acknowledge the justice of its
victory.

There are problematic elements in the German character
that account for the frequent appearance of the type in
German literature. Thinkers may prove wavering in action,

106 A. B. FAUST.

idealism may lead Jenseits von Gut und Bose to a master-
morality that tramples justice and humanity under foot,
thoroughness may produce that intemperate greed of pleasure
that prompted Faust to exclaim : " Ich taumV von Beyierde zu
Genuss, und im Genuss verschmacht ich nach Begierde"

If we look at the Germany of to-day, however, we need
not light a lamp to search for manhood. The men who
founded the Empire, and those who brought it securely
through its many trials after the Franco-German war, were
not problematic characters. There is manhood in the wonder-
ful industrial growth of the country, in its ever-increasing
trade. The nation has meanwhile kept its leading position in
all provinces of scientific research, and has solved some of the
great social questions in a practical way.

This Germany nas not been adequately represented in its
present literature. We should never allow ourselves to be
deceived by prevailing fads and fashions in literature ; they
concern but a small set and do not give expression to the
great, underlying forces that move the nation. We expect
once more to see the mirror held up to nature, — a mirror
neither concave nor convex, but truthful in its reflections.
The problematic hero in such a literature would be cast down
from his place, and the truly epic figures of complete man-
hood and strength of character, with the world of emotion in
harmony with that of action, would succeed to his position of
prominence.

A. B. FAUST.

V.— LESSING'S TREATMENT OF THE STORY OF THE
RING, AND ITS TEACHING.

In Westerraann's Monatshefle for January, 1891, and later
in his 'Life of LessingJ Professor Erich Schmidt has outlined
the chief features of the history and transformations of the
story of the three rings in Europe. On examination it will
be found that all the versions of the story belong to one or the
other of two types, which are represented by the two earliest
forms of the story preserved to us. The oldest version, that
of the Spanish Jew Salomo ben Verga, tells of two rings or
jewels only, which were in outward appearance exactly alike,
and there is no question of one being genuine and the other
false, but only of the relative value of the two. In the absence
of the father it is found impossible to decide the question, and
thus the decision between Christianity and Judaism is simply
avoided. In Li Dis dou vrai aniel, a French poem of the end
of the twelfth century, three rings appear, and to the original
or genuine ring is attributed a marvelous healing power by
which it may be recognized, and following which a decision
is arrived at among the three religions, in this case in favor of
Christianity, although there were not wanting later narrators
so bold as to hint that the true ring was possessed by Judaism.
The version of Etienne de Bourbon, the versions of the Cento
Novelle}the three versions of the Gesta Romanorum, all belong
to one or the other of two types. We may refer to these two
types as the Spanish type and the French type. Those of the
first type, to which belongs also the version of Boccaccio, the
one from which Lessing took his point of departure, avoid a
decision, implying that all religions are equally authoritative,
but without inherent or inner evidence of their quality. Those
of the second type, to which in many of its features Lessing's
final version of the story is allied, lead to a decision, making

107

108 W. H. CARRUTH.

religion of divine origin indeed, but supplying a test, that of
good works, whereby the true religion may be recognized.

The Spanish type of the story makes religion a matter of
authority from without, but results in a doctrine of toleration.
The French type teaches that religion is largely a matter of
life and character, but in its final interpretation leads to intol-
erance. Neither of these types could satisfy Lessing. This we
know from his utterances in a score of connections, but most
clearly from Die Erziehung des Menschengeschlechts. How-
ever, the ring story to be used by him in Nathan, must repre-
sent the same notions of religion as those expressed elsewhere
in the drama. For the ring story is itself in the drama like
the setting in a ring. The drama would be a drama, and a
very good one, without the story. The purpose of scenes 4
to 7, act III in the economy of the drama, which is to relieve
Saladin's financial distress, to bring Nathan and Saladin closer
together, and to give Nathan an opportunity to recall the
Templar to Saladin's attention, could be accomplished quite
easily, though of course not so beautifully, by giving a differ-
ent turn to Saladin's approach and omitting the ring story.
A good jeweler could make us an excellent plain gold ring
without the setting.

But having the setting, it must fit the ring and harmonize
with it. We may be sure, on artistic grounds alone, that the
notions of religion set forth in the body of the drama will be
confirmed by the teaching of the ring story as the author will
remodel it. What, then, are these notions ?

Each of the three religions has its representatives, who are
more or less admirable. No one of the religions would be
condemned if judged by the character of its representatives.
It makes no diiferenee, in this connection, that some are more
admirable than others, or which religion those more admirable
characters represent, or whether Lessing had personally a
preference among them. We know the special considerations
which led him to make his most ideal character a Jew. The
fact remains that, judged by their representatives in the play

LESSING'S STORY OF THE RING. 109

alone, we must conclude that there is much good in all
religions. Moreover we find these representatives engaged in
chivalrous cooperation toward a good end, and finally united
in one happy family.

Furthermore, we have the evidence of the direct utterances
of the leading personages on the subject of religion. The
doctrine of miracles and special intervention is gently put
away in the first act. A religion of deeds, "gut handeln,"
is set over against a religion of pious gush, "andachtig
schwarmen." The desire to claim the one exclusive, true
religion is denounced in many different ways : by the non-
sectarian Recha, " Wem eignet Gott? Was ist das fur ein
Gott, Der einem Menschen eignet ? " by a Christian, " die
fromrne Raserei den bessern Gott zu haben," by a Mussul-
man, "Ihr Stolz ist, Christen sein, nicht Menschen," while
to the Jew, in practice, " Jud' und Christ uud Mussulmann
und Parsi sind ihm alles eins." The Jew proclaims, further-
more, " dass alle Lander gute Menschen tragen," and urges :
" Nur muss der Kuorr den Knubben hiibsch vertragen."
The best representative of Christianity acknowledges Nathan
as a Christian because of his manifestation of the spirit of
Christ, while the Jew responds :

" Wohl uns, denn was

Mich euch zum Christen macht, das macht euch mir
Zum Juden."

Finally, the form of the religion, the creed, is subordinated
in the doctrine taught to Recha by Nathan,

"dass Ergebenheit

In Gott von unserm Wahnen iiber Gott
So ganz und gar nicht abhangt."

It is plain enough from these few references, which might
be greatly increased, that the very heart and crown of this
play could not be a parable which would present religion, on

110 W. H. CARRUTH.

the one hand, as a cold matter of form and authority, nor
again, on the other, as the exclusive possession of one race
or sect. Let us now consider how Lessing solved his
difficulty and harmonized his two model types.

According to the oldest source of the ring story, that
of the Spanish Jew, Salomo ben Verga, there is no question
of a genuine or a false ring, but only of the relative value
of two jewels given by a loving father. As applied to the
religions regarding which Pedro of Aragon asks, the lesson
is merely that only God can estimate the relative value
of Christianity and Judaism, without any implication that
one is false and the other true.

In the Dis clou vrai aniel, where first we find the suggestion
of one true ring and beside it two false ones, the true ring
having an innate healing power, the application teaches :

(1) That a religion is known by its results, good works,
although depending for its power on a gift from above, that
is, that it is a matter of special revelation.

(2) Accordingly, that there is and can be but one true
religion, which will show the works (declared in the Dis to
be Christianity), while the false ones will be barren of
good works.

(3) The absence of good works among the claimants for
the inheritance — that is, the true religion — would warrant
only one conclusion : that the religions represented are all
false, though there must still somewhere be a true one.

(4) The teaching is, therefore : Christianity is the true
religion ; all religions are equally shams if they are not
marked by the good works; and the tendency is, until the
application is made, to inculcate in the adherents of any
given religion a sort of fatalistic indifference to the question,
Who has the genuine religion ? since some one is by the gift
of God true, and the status of none can be altered by human
efforts, — a tolerance of indifference ; but when, as in the close
of the Dis, it is declared that Christianity has the true ring,
the teaching is anything but toleration.

Ill

In the type of the ring story as found in Boccaccio, which
Lessing confesses to be his source, there is indeed an original
ring, but recognizable only through the father's intention ;
consequently, when the father has determined to avoid dis-
criminating between the brothers, there is no room for a
question as to true and false, — the ring is a mark of the
father's favor, and this is shared by the brothers alike.

The application teaches :

(1) That religion is a matter of revelation, a gift of God,
of authority from on high.

(2) And further, that God has expressed his equal appro-
bation of the three religions under consideration, since he
has given to all alike revelations and refused to discriminate
between them.

(3) Consequently, that there can be no claim supported on
behalf of one sect that it has the true religion while the others
are false.

(4) The teaching is therefore : the adherents of any one of
the three religions are justified in holding to their own, but
should at least tolerate the adherents of the others, for theirs
also are God-given.

While Lessing informs us that he built his treatment upon
that of Boccaccio, we know that he was familiar also with the
Gesta Romanorum. The attribution of marvelous powers
to the ring was in Lessing's sources, therefore, and in fact he
follows in essentials the French rather than the Spanish type.

Lessing combines features of both these types, and adds
others which quite transform the fable and shift the original
ground of it. He attributes to the original ring a marvelous
power, as in the fables of the French type, but makes the
power dependent on the faith of the wearer, instead of innate
as in the case of the French version of the Dis dou vrai aniel.
Here, then, there is one true ring, which may or may not
prove itself the true one, and two others which are not genuine.
Inasmuch as Lessing does not carry the fable out to its con-

112 W. H. CARRUTH.

elusion on this basis, it will suffice to point out that the
conclusions would be :

The religion typified would be a religion conferred from
above, but maintained only by trust in God, and recognizable
only through its works.

That there may be one true religion, but only one ; but
also, that there may be none at all.

The teaching to the claimants would be : yours may turn
out to be the true religion ; believe that you are beloved by
God and man, and if as a result you are, then you have the
true religion. But only one of you has it. The effect on
the believers would be at first to make tlrem amiable and
tolerant, but as soon as evidences of popularity were dis-
covered to make them intolerant. It might also lead to
fatalistic inactivity and perversions of the doctrine of the
might of Faith.

However, Lessing had no thought of stopping in any such
half-way house. We know well enough the goal at which he
is aiming. He intends to lead us out into a world in which
there is room for three true religions, or for any number of
them. Why then did he not stop with the simple version of
Boccaccio, which puts the religions upon a par, instead of
taking up that type of the story which carries the assumption
of one true ring? For it was against this

" from me Raserei

Den bessern Gott zu haben, diesen bessern
Der ganzen Welt als besten aufzudringen,"

that he was most vigorously protesting.

It was because Lessing could not be satisfied with a religion
of authority alone, and verifiable only by appeals to inspired
documents. To him religion was a matter of the life of the
believer, and hence the ring with the power of manifestation
was a better representative of the religion he wished to
advocate.

113

The difficulty now becomes to suppress the element of the
one genuine ring. This cannot he done absolutely without
making the choice of the parable seem absurd and unjustified.
But not the least admirable piece of Lessing's dialectic cun-
ning i.s the manner in which he conceals this defect in his
parable and leads the reader's thoughts away from it. To
begin with, the power to make beloved depends upon the
faith of the wearer. When, at the end of the first paragraph
of the ring story, the rule of succession is stated, the magic
power and the faith in it are not mentioned, but "in Kraft
allein des Rings" the claimant is to become the prince, the
head of the house. Thus we are led to think only of the
possession of a ring. Next, as in Boccaccio's version, the
intent of the father is to put the sons upon an equal footing,
and he provides rings exactly alike, apparently believing that
he has thus secured his sons against rivalry and discrimination.
The sons claim the inheritance, and again, as in Boccaccio,
there is no means of deciding, and the story seems, to be ended
with the conclusion that there is no way of discriminating
between the rival religions. There follows the little diversion
in which religions are discussed directly, and not by means of
a parable, and then Nathan resumes the story in order to carry
it out to the beautiful moral he has in mind. The judge before
whom the claims are being tried finally recalls the marvelous
power of the ring to make its wearer beloved (though he omits
the clause " Wer in dieser Zuversicht ihn trug) ; and we have
become so used to the thought that the rings are all alike that
we are prepared to discover the power in any or all of them.

The judge then gives the coup de grdce to the notion of a
single true ring by suggesting that it may have been lost, and
that the father had had three new rings made in place of one.
Having thus established the three rings on a parity, he recalls
the original condition on which the ring manifested its power,
by advising each to believe that he has the true ring, and
admonishes all three of the sons to strive to demonstrate this
power in themselves. Thus we are prepared for that appeal
8

114 W. H. CARRUTH.

to the universal qualities of pure and undefined religion which
have been recognized as the essentials by the great minds —
and perhaps by most common minds, too — in all times.

" Komme dieser Kraft mit Sanftmut,
Mil herzlicher Vertraglichkeit, mit Wohlthun,
Mit innigster Ergebenheit in Gott
ZuHiilf!"

How like the creed of the prophet Micah that sounds :
"What else doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justice,
love mercy, and walk humbly with thy God ! " Or that of
Jesus : " Love the Lord thy God with all thy might and with
all thy heart and with all thy mind, and thy neighbor as
thyself/7 And even though it is necessary to return to the
contest for the inheritance in court, the postponement of the
decision until eternity (iiber tausend tausend Jahre) benefi-
cently reduces to the vanishing point the fact that we set out
on the assumption that there was one true ring, which even
if it was lost as among the three sons might turn up in the
hands of a finder.

With the two types thus blended into one, we have to deal
with three rings, all alike having the potentiality of develop-
ing the power to make beloved, and hence: three rings, (a)
all genuine, or (6) one or more genuine, or (c) all false, or
again, (d) one or all partly genuine.

(1) The religion thus typified is not a possession, but a
capacity, bestowed by God on all his children alike, which
may be developed or neglected.

(2) Thus there may be (a) one, or (6) any number of true
religions, or (c) none at all, or, more reasonably, (d) any
number of more or less genuine religions, the test of genuine-
ness being in the spirit and the works ; and the expectation
of perfection, in this, as in other human institutions, being
postponed to eternity.

(3, 4) The teaching of the parable in this form is : accept
your inherited religion, or develop the capacity within you

LESSING'S STORY OF THE RING. 115

as you will ; cultivate this capacity to your utmost and
encourage your brethren in other sects to do the same.
If you have the right spirit you will be loved by the fol-
lowers of other religions instead of being found contending
with them in envious rivalry; intolerance will indeed be
impossible towards those who are endowed by God with the
same ideal capacity as yourselves, but the cold word tolera-
tion, the spirit of let-alone, will be an utterly inadequate
expression of your attitude toward the adherents of other
religions. Regarding them as the children of a common
father, you will feel toward them the most hearty and active
good will — not the Confucian, " Do not to others what you
would not have them do to you," but the Christian precept
of the positive Golden Rule, " Do unto others as you would
have them do to you."

There has not been a proper recognition of the positive
Christian teaching of Nathan der Weise on the part of the
popular exponents of German literature. It is quite probable
that Lessing himself would not have professed it to be such.
Herder and Goethe have been echoed by a large number of
commentators and popular critics. Herder found in the
drama l< eiuen reichen Kranz von Lehren der schonsten Art,
der Menschen- Religion- und Volkerduldung. Alle rufen
uns zn : ihr Volker, duldet euch!" Goethe commended to
the German people "das darin enthaltene Duldungs- und
Schonuugsgefiihl." Following these inadequate estimates of
the essence of the drama Lowell called it "an essay on tolera-
tion in the form of a dialogue," and even Professor Erich
Schmidt, who has caught and expounded better than anybody
else the true beauty of the teaching, relapses into the same
expression, " Lessings Toleranzpredigt."

Of our American editors, Brandt uses Lowell's phrase
slightly modified ; Primer and Curme seem to me to have
the truth in mind, but do not emphasize it adequately.

Scherer recognizes that Lessing has made of the ring story
" aus einem Symbol des Indifferentismus oder der Toleranz

116 W. H. CARRUTH.

ein Symbol der Humanitatsreligion ;" but if by " Humanitats-
religion " Scherer refers to Positivism, there is still lacking
the recognition of the spirit of active and helpful love.
Schmidt, however, is clear and explicit when he speaks of
Nathan der Weise as "das in ein Schauspiel gekleidete
Evangelium der Liebe."

The militant orthodoxy of the eighteenth century could not
perceive in its adversaries, through the lurid clouds of theo-
logical conflict, the very teachings of the Master in whose
name it fought. But the orthodoxy of to-day has occupied
the redoubts held by the rationalism and heterodoxy of the
eighteenth century. Samuel Reimarus would himself recog-
nize that the world of to-day is ready for his Schutzschrift fur
die vernunftigen Verehrer Gottes The Wolfenbiittel Frag-
ments would scarcely arouse a controversy in the last year of
the nineteenth century.

There is no need to apologize for the teaching of Nathan
der Weise. On the contrary, the drama deserves to be
accepted as one of the indispensable aids to a liberal educa-
tion, as putting forth, in the most attractive and insinuating
form, the principles of pure Christianity.

W. H. CARRUTH.

VI.— A NOTE ON THE PRISON-SCENE IN
GOETHE'S FAUST.

In the Gochhausen manuscript of Faust l Margarethe con-
cludes the vision of her own execution as follows : " Es zuckt
in iedem Nacken die Scharfe die nach raeinem zuckt ! " . . .
Motley's description of the execution of Egmont contains the
words : " A moment of shuddering silence succeeded the
stroke. The whole vast assembly seemed to have felt it in
their own hearts." 2 The source of this statement was found,
after some search, in Hooft's Neederlandsche Histoorien, Am-
sterdam, 1642.3

If the identification of this passage with the words in
the prison-scene be correct, we add what seems to be a
hitherto unnoted source for Goethe's studies in the history
of the Netherlands prior to his going to Weimar. Schiller
is known to have made Hooft's work the basis of his treatise,
Des Grafen Lamoral von Egmont Leben und Tod, published
1789. He makes a somewhat tame use of the same passage
in describing Egmont's death : "Ganz Briissel, das sich um
das Schafott drangte, fuhlte den todlichen Streich mit." 4
In Dichtung und Wahrheit Goethe speaks of beginning his
actual work on Egmont after the breaking of his engagement
with Lili, which occurred in September, 1775: "Ich hatte
die Quellen fleissig erforscht und mich moglichst unmittel-
bar zti unterrichten und mir alles lebendig zu vergegen-
wartigen gesucht." 5 Diintzer states expressly in his corn-

1 4th edition, p. 88.

8 The Rise of the Dutch Kepublic, 1859. Vol. 2, p. 206.

3 Page 171 : ... en, roepende, met gevouwen' handen, ffeere, in uwe
handen, beveel ik mynen geest, vlydde zich tot d^n slagh ; die, van den
scharprechter, flux opgetreeden, gegeeven werd, en hem niet bet door den
hals, dan den omstanderen in't hart sneed.

4Werke, x, Kiirschner, i, p. 325. *Werke, xxix, 174.

117

118 JAMES TAFT HATFIELD.

mentary to Egmont1 that Goethe was acquainted at this
time only with Van Metereu (first published 1597) and
Strada (1632). While Goethe certainly used these sources,
and while Hooft derives largely from them, it seems im-
probable that the " fleissige Erforschung " should have passed
by the sumptuous volumes of Hooft's history, which had
reached an imposing fourth edition in 1703. We learn from
not less than four allusions in Dichtung und Wahrheit 2 that
Gottfried's Chronik, — a work of very similar appearance, —
was a household book in the home on the Hirschgraben,
and there is also mention of the folio-bible with Merian's
copper-plates, as well as of the Orbis pictus of Comenius.
As Hooft's work is secondary to those of Van Meteren and
Strada, Goethe made but sparing use of it ; yet I believe that
various traces of its influence can be shown. The first part
of the description of the battle of Gravelingen in the opening
scene of .Egmont is derived from Van Meteren, while the
latter part is taken from Strada. Hooft combines the
accounts very much in Goethe's way. Goethe says of the
English war-ships, " schossen auch wohl unter uns." Hooft
uses the phrase " onder onze," while Van Meteren 3 keeps the
description in the third person, " onder die Borgoensche " ;
Strada does not mention this incident. In Goethe's Eg-
mont: " Was nun noch durchbrach, schlugen euch auf
der Flucht die Bauerweiber ; " Hooft : " De huysluyd«n,
zoo wyven, als mannen, . . . vermoordden noch grooter
getal vluehtelinghen ; " the episode does not occur in Van
Meteren. Buyck's description closes with the tribute to
Egmont: "Und den Frieden seid ihr uns schuldig, dem
grossen Egmont schuldig." This does not occur in the work
either of Van Meteren or of Strada. Hooft's description,
however, closes : "Aan deeze neederlaagh werd den Heere van
Thermes schuldt gegeeven. . . . Maar van Egmondt ....

Mth ed., Leipzig, 1891, p. 4. 2i, i; i, iv ; u, viii ; iv, xviii.

3 Folio 19, edition of 1652.

THE PRISON-SCENE IN GOETHE'S FAUST.

119

had groot en kleen den mondt vol. Van hem was't dat
men riep ; van hem dat men roemde ; . . . hy de verlosser
van Vlaandre, die de schaaden der landtzaaten te boeten,
him' smart en smaadt te wreeken wist/' ]

It may be allowable to remark at this point that certain
elements in Goethe's description of the battle of Graveliugen,
namely, the account of the pursuit of the enemy into the
water, and especially the phrase, " weggeschossen wie die
Enten," seem to have been taken by Goethe from the ballad,
Die SchlacJit bey Murten, contained in Diebold Schilling's
Beschreibung der Burgundischen Kriege, Bern, 1743, p. 347,
which was printed in altered form in Des Knaben Wunderhorn,
1805.2 Goethe's remarks on this ballad, in his review of the
Wunderhorn, show that he already knew it in its original state.

In the interview between Egmont and William of Orange,
the latter says : " Es ist klug und kiihn dem unvermeidlichen
Uebel entgegenzugehn " ; this corresponds to the phrase in
Hooft, "en de zwaare smak van onvermydelylcen val te doen
bezeffen." 3

Van Meteren does not record the surrender of Egmont's
sword, which closes the fourth act of the drama : "So nimm
ihn ! Er hat weit ofter des Konigs Sache vertheidigt, als diese
Brust beschiitzt." Strada's version is : " Et tamen hoc ferro
saepe ego Regis causam non infeliciter defendi ;" but closer to
Goethe's language are the words in Hooft : 4 "yt heeft, zeid
hy, zich zoo trouwlyk, en meenighwerfs, in's Koninx dienst,
gequeeten."

In the final interview with Ferdinand, Egmont grasps at
the hope that Alva may be about to relent and show his
favor : 5 " Dieses Urtheil ware nicht ein leeres Schreckbild,
mich zu angstigen, durch Furcht und Drohung zu strafen,
mich zu erniedrigen, und dann mit kdniglicher Gnade mich
wieder aufzuheben ? " Hooft alone records the fact that

1 Fourth edition, 1, 14.
*i, 163 f.

2 Page 58. 3i, 142.

6 Goethe, Werke, vm, 297.

120 JAMES TAFT HATFIELD.

Egmont asked Bishop Rithovius whether he might Dot expect
mercy of the Duke :l " Egmondt, met grooter verwondering,
dan versleeghenheit, vraagt, oft'er nocht genaade, nocht uitstel
af moght."

Possibly the connection between Faust and Hooft's history
may shed some light upon the disputed date of the writing
of the " Prison Scene." The accessible farts seem to unite
in proving that Egmont was written in 1775, and there is no
positive evidence of active work in composition before that
year. It was precisely the time when the beginnings of
another struggle for independence, similar to that shown forth
in the drama, were holding Goethe's interest.2 In conversa-
tion with Eckermann, 10 January, 1825, Goethe said : " Ich
schrieb den Egmont im Jahre 1775, also vor funfzig Jahren.
Ich hielt rnich sehr treu an die Geschichte und strebte nach
moglichster Wahrheit." In Dichtung und Wahrheit3 Goethe
states that after breaking off the engagement with Lili (Sep-
tember, 1775) he began " wirklich Egmont zu schreiben."
The only suggestion of an earlier beginning is found in
Divhtung und Wahrheit in the statement 4 as to his activity
after the completion of Goetz, " [ich sah] mich nach einem
ahnlichen Wendepunct der Staatengeschichte um. Der Auf-
stand der Niederlande gewann meine Aufmerksamkeit. . . .
Meinen Vater hatte ich davon auf das lebhafteste unterhalten,
was zu thun sei, . . . dass ihm diess so uniiberwindliches
Verlangen gab, dieses in meinem Kopf schon fertige Stuck
auf dem Papiere . . . zu sehen." Taking this recollection
as literally accurate, there is nothing in it to necessarily place
the work earlier than the year 1775. Duntzer's contention
that the lines to Boie in November, 1773, refer to Egmont has
been disposed of by Daniel Jacoby in the Goethe- Jahrbuch,
xn, 247, who shows that the allusion is to the drama Julius
Cdsar.

1i, 181. 2 Werke, xxix, 68.

3 Werke, xxix, 1 62 f. * Werke, xxix, 162.

121

The close analogy between the prison-scene in Faust and
certain parts of Egmont has been pointed out by Erich
Schmidt1 and Professor Winkler, and systematically de-
veloped by Morris in the Goethe-Jahrbuch, xx, 258-260.
Erich Schmidt, it is true, sets the writing of the last scene
of the first part of Faust before April, 1775, probably as
early as January, 1775, perhaps in the autumn of 1774.2
The argument rests upon elements in Wagner's Kindermor-
derin, which Schmidt is convinced must have been copied
from Goethe's drama before the culmination of the difficulties
between Goethe and Wagner which led to Goethe's public
disclaimer of Prometheus on April 9, 1775. It must be
borne in mind, however, that the Kindermorderin was not
published until 1776; both Pniower3 and Sauer4 look at
the analogies more skeptically. Schmidt admits that the
general situation in Wagner's drama was an established
stock-motive before Goethe made use of it,8 and bases his
proof upon three elements : madness, the Mdrchengesang,
arid the death of the mother. Although Schmidt states that
Wagner "ceased to exist for Goethe" after the publication of
his indiscreet satire, Goethe had resumed communication with
him during September and October, 1775. Wagner was also a
welcome guest of Frau Rath after her son had gone to Weimar.
Moreover, Goethe says in Dichtungund Wahrheit 6 merely that
he had " told " Wagner his plans for Faust. In an unpublished
MS. note to the Urfaust, Professor Rudolf Kogel pointed out that
the tone of the opening passage in the prison-scene, " Es fasst
mich langst verwohnter Schauer. Inneres Grauen der Men-
scheit," is identical with that of a letter addressed to Fritz
Stolberg7 on October 26, 1775: "Das Erbarmliche liegen
am Staube Friz ! und das winden der Wiirmer ich schwore

1 Goethe's Faust in urspriinglicher Gestalt. 4. Aufl., xxiv.

2 Ibid., xxxvn. *Goethes Faust. Berlin, 1900.

*Slurmer und Drdnger. Kiirschner, 80, 279.

6Heinrich Leopold Wo.gner. 2 Aufl., p. 89.

*Werke, xxvin, 252. 1Briefe, n, 303.

122 JAMES TAFT HATFIELD.

clir bey meinem Herzen ! wenn das nicht Kindergelall und
Gerassel 1st der Werther und all das Gezeug ! Gegen das
innre Zeugniss meiner Seele ! — '' and this analogy is significant.
Wagner's Kindermorderin, whenever conceived, has nothing
which corresponds to the portrayal of the execution in Faust,
a. motive which would have been particularly sympathetic to
the " Stunner und Dranger." Whatever argument we follow
in respect to Wagner's drama, it does not seem necessary to
assume an earlier date than the autumn of 1775 for the
writing of the prison-scene as found in the Gochhausen
manuscript.

JAMES TAFT HATFIELD.

VII.— THE HOME OF THE HELIAND.

The Heliand is generally called an Old Saxon epic. Its
language, however, is not a pure Saxon dialect but presents a
peculiar mixture of Saxon with Frisian and Low Franconian
forms, for which as yet no sufficient explanation has been
offered.

At a time when only two manuscripts of the Heliand were
known — the Cotton MS. in the British Museum and the
Munich MS. in the Royal Bavarian Library — the mixed
dialect seemed to present less difficulty than at present. No
special importance was attributed at this time to the traces
of Frisian dialect in the poem. Most of them, in fact, were
reckoned among the Early Saxon forms. The question
therefore seemed to lie only between Saxon and Low Franco-
nian ; and it is easily noticed that the traces of Low
Franconian appear to a much larger extent in the Cotton
than in the Munich MS. Heyne1 accordingly advanced the
theory that the Heliand was written in Munster in West-
phalia, and that the Munich MS. preserved on the whole the
dialect of the original, while the Cotton MS. represented a
transcription of the original into Low Franconian. He
assigned the latter to the monastery Werden on the Ruhr,
near the Franconiau boundary.

Meanwhile the well known finds, made in 1880 in the
library of the University of Prague2 and in 1894 in
the library of the Vatican in Rome,3 have furnished us
with fragments of two additional manuscripts. By these

lZs. /. dt. Phil., i (1869), p. 288 ; cf. his Kleine alts. u. allndfr. Gramm.
(Paderb., 1873), p. 2.

* Lambel, Ein neuentdecktes Blatt einer Heliandhandschr., Wien, 1881 (repr.
from Sitzungsber. d. kais. Akad. d. Wiss., 1880).

3 Zangemeister u. Braune, Bruchstilcke d. alls. Bibeldichtuny, Heidelberg,
1894 (reprinted from Neue Heidelberg. Jahrbucher, Vol. iv).

123

124 HERMANN COLLITZ.

new discoveries Heyne's opinion is definitely set aside. For
both new fragments show a dialectic variety like that of the
Cottonianus. This is the more important since both repre-
sent an early stage in the tradition of the text, and are in
their readings independent of each other and of the Cotton
MS. The condition of our MSS. then indicates that the charac-
teristic mixture of Saxon, Low Franconian, and Frisian
forms is not a peculiarity of the Cotton MS., but belongs to
the original Heliand.

While this view may at present be regarded as generally
agreed upon,1 there is still much difference of opinion as to
the locality in which a mixture of these three dialects could
have taken place. Several scholars, Koegel2 and Braune3 for
example, are satisfied with a slight modification of Heyne's
theory. The poem in their opinion was written in Werden,
the same monastery which Heyne regarded as the home
of the Cottonianus. Kauffmann 4 would prefer to substitute
for Werden the monastery of Corvey on the Weser. This
would carry us near the southern part of the Saxon territory.
Jostes5 — in a paper which has much stimulated and certainly
in some respects benefited the discussion of our problem —
finds that for creating an epic like the Heliand conditions
were nowhere more favorable than in the northern provinces
of the empire, say near Hamburg or in Holstein. As
regards our manuscripts, he suggests that the Cottonianus
may have been written in Magdeburg, the Monacensis in

1 Cf., e. g., Koegel, Gesch. d. di. Lit., i, 1, p. 281 ; Braune, Bruchst. d. alts.
Bibeldicht , p. 212.

2 1. c., p. 283 seq., and Erg. heft, p. 21 seq.

3 1. c., p. 220.

* Germania 37 (1892), p. 368 seq., in a review of GalleVs Alts. Gmmm.,
written before the Vatican fragments were discovered. In P.-B. Beitr. 12
(1886), p. 358, Kauffmann advanced the opinion that the Cottonianus was
written in Eastern Westphalia, and that Paderborn might have been the
home of the poet.

*Zcittckr. f. dt. Alt. 40 (1896), p. 160-184. Cf. H. Tiimpel, NiederdL
Studien (Bielefeld, 1898), p. 130-133.

THE HOME OF THE H ELI AND.

125

Hildesheiru. Finally Wrede, in an able treatise published
only about a year ago,1 has attempted to prove that the poet
lived in the southeastern corner of the Saxon territory, in
the vicinity of Merseburg. There is good reason to believe
that there existed near Merseburg in the Old Saxon period a
Frisian colony, since unmistakable traces of Frisian dialect
appear (in Low German glosses and in proper names) in
this vicinity as late as in the first quarter of the eleventh
century.2 This in "Wrede's opinion would account for the
Frisian elements in the Heliand. As regards the supposed
Low Fraucouian forms, Wrede holds that these are not Low
Franconian but belong to Eastern or Southeastern Low
German.

We see then that in this question the East and the West,
the North and the South have each found its advocates, and
it is for us to take our choice; unless we decide to reject
every one of these theories in order to start in a new direc-
tion, a direction not indicated by any one of the four points
of the compass.

The fact that one theory has closely followed another,
seems to indicate that the proper solution of the problem
has not yet been found. Under these circumstances I may
refrain, I think, from discussing in detail the different propo-
sitions and from repeating the objections which each advocate
of a new solution has raised against his immediate prede-
cessor. Let it suffice to consider briefly the latest of the above
theories, the one by Wrede.

Wrede starts with an argument, in which he follows Jostes
and which, at the first glance, seems quite plausible. It is
a well known feature of the language of the Heliand that
the word burg is often appended to names of foreign cities,

lZs. /. dt. Alt. 43 (1899), p. 333-360. Cf. Roethe, " Heliand und Sachsen-
spiegel," in the Anzdger of the same vol., p. 387-390.

2 See especially H. Hartmann, Giammaiik d. dltesten Mundart Mersebury's.
i. (Dissert.) Norden, 1890.

126 HERMANN COLLITZ.

so as to form compounds like Nazarethburg , Sodomoburg,
Rumaburg.1 Such names are later on especially common in
the eastern part of the Saxon territory (that is to say,
in the district in which at present names like Magdeburg,
Blankenburg, Quedlinburg, Merseburg, Naumburg are found),
although similar names (e. g., Luneburg, Hamburg) occur
also in Northern and sometimes (e. g., Oldenburg, Nienburg,
Duisburg) in Western Saxony. These facts in Jostes's opinion
serve as an argument in favor of regarding Hamburg or its
vicinity as the birthplace of the Heliand, while Wrede con-
tends that the poet more probably lived in the 6ur^-district
proper (the " Gegend der Burgwarde ") near Merseburg.

There is at the outset a slight chronological difficulty.
We happen to know that Quedlinburg was founded by
Henry the Fowler, who reigned from 919-936, and most
of the towns in -burg are perhaps not much older. In fact,
the earliest document in which a considerable number of such
names are mentioned is a deed by the emperor Otto II,
which dates from May 20, 979 (see Wrede, p. 335). Wrede
indeed maintains that a similar list of names (from the abbey
of Hersfeld), written toward the end of the eleventh century,
is a faithful copy of the original, which belonged to the last
third of the ninth century. I am unable to examine the
latter statement and am willing to accept it on good faith.
But even this would carry us only to a time half a century
later than the date of the Heliand. Wrede goes on arguing
that with the aid of the Heliand we are able to date the East
Saxon towns with -burg farther back : the " HeUandburgen "
constitute the earliest testimony for their existence, and judg-
ing from the Heliand such names were current [N. B. in
Eastern Saxony] a century before the original of the Hers-
feld document was written. But are we not here entirely
losing the ground under our feet? If the existence in
Eastern Saxony of towns in -burg is warranted for the end

•Of. Jostes, 1. c., p. 164.

THE HOME OF THE HELIAND.

127

of the eighth century only by names like Rumaburg in the
Heliand, how can we, without committing a circulus vitiosus,
admit that only in Eastern Saxony could the poet have found
his models for such names ?

Moreover, Wrede is apparently not aware of the well
known fact1 that in Old Frisian laws -burch is sometimes
added to names of cities in the same manner as in the
Heliand , e. g., Colnaburg or Colene = Cologne, as in the He-
Hand Rumaburg (dat. Rumuburg) or Ruma = Rome.2 These
laws were written not in Eastern Saxony, but in the Frisian
country between Bremen and the Netherlands.

With reference to the Frisian Colnaburch Siebs (/. c.) has
argued against Jostes that the names with -burg are not of
much account as to the origin of the Heliand. Judging from
Goth, baurgs 'town,' O. Norse borg, A.-S. burg, etc., this
word was in the Old Germanic dialects the general designa-
tion for 'residence7 or 'town/ In the Heliand it is added
in rather loose composition to the names of foreign cities, in
order to relieve somewhat their foreign appearance. Simi-
larly the poet adds land to the names of foreign countries
(e. g.yAegypteo-landy Galilearland or Galileo-land, Kananeo-
land, Ponteo-land), strom to the names of foreign rivers
(Jordana-strom or Jordanes-strom, Nll-strom), folk or liudi
to the names of foreign peoples (Ebreo-folk, Ebreo-liudi,
Judeo-folk, JudeO'liudij Romano-liudi). With reference to the
origin of the poem, there is no warrant for putting more stress
on names with burg, than on those with land or strom, etc.

If further confirmation of this view be required, it may be
found in the fact that also in Anglo-Saxon poetry the term
-burg is used, exactly as in the Heliand, in coined words and
added to foreign names. E. g., Finnsburuh (Battle of Finns-

'Cf. Richthofen, Altfries. Worterbuch, s. v. burch; Koegel, Gesch. d. dt.
Lit., i, 1, 244; Siebs, Ztschr.f. dt. Phil., 29, 413.

'Richthofen, Fries. RechtsqueUen (Berlin, 1840), pp. 3 and 4: Colnaburch
het bi aide tidem Agrippina (Einsigo MS.) = Colnaburch hit bi alda tidon
Agrip (Rustringer MS.) = Colene het bi aide tidem Agripina (Hunsigo MS.).

128 HERMANN COLLITZ.

burg 38), Mceringa burg (Dtor's Complaint 38), Romano, burg
(Boet. Metr., ix, 10), on Romebyrig (Fata Apost. 11), Troia
burg (Boet. Metr., ix, 16 and xxvi, 20), Sodome burh (Gen.
1975), on (or of) Sodoma byrig (Gen. 1925, 2013, 2558),
Aethanes byrig (plur., Exod. 66), in Caldea byrig (Dan. 95),
Babilone burh (Dan. 601), Babilon burga (plur., Dan. 694),
on Sione byrig (Psalm LXXVII, 67).

It is quite probable that the agreement of Frisian, Anglo-
Saxon, and Old Saxon in this peculiarity is not incidental,
but inherited from an earlier stage of West Germanic poetry.
But it certainly disposes of Wrede's conclusions, since we
cannot very well assume that, e. g., the author of the Battle
of Finnsburg or Cadmon lived near Merseburg.

As regards Wrede's grammatical arguments, they are
scarcely more convincing than the one based on the use of
-burg. To be sure, his treatise is ingenious and brilliant,
and contains much valuable information, derived especially
from the comprehensive map of German dialects, at which he
is working in conjunction with Dr. Wenker. But as to the
main issue he has followed a wrong track, and the result is
a theory whose shortcomings even his skilful treatment is
unable to disguise.

Wrede, e. g., endorses (p. 342) Jostes's' view as to the form
fan. Jostes wrote in the Zs. f. dt. Alt., 40, 173: " In my
opinion the one little word von may suffice to show (as against
the reasons advanced for Westphalia) that the home of the
poet must have been in the East/' We are assured by Wrede
that this view is confirmed by the map of German dialects,
and that according to the same source and in keeping with
Wrede's theory von and van are both found to-day (just as
they are found alternating in theHeliand) in the principality
of Anhalt to the right of the Saale and further on beyond
the Elbe. Wrede also states that van is the North Frisian
form, and finally refers to Tiimpel's Niederd. Studien, p. 11
seq. He does not inform us that both fan and fan occur in

THE HOME OF THE HELIAND.

129

the Old Frisian laws1 and that fon is the current form
in Saterland Frisian. We may reckon fan in the Heliand
among the Frisian forms, or we may assume with Holt-
hausen 2 that in Low German originally both fa'n (accented)
and fon (unaccented) were found. The latter theory is
perhaps recommended by the fact that fon occurs in Middle
Low German too frequently to be explained (as Tiimpel
proposes) simply by the influence of High German. In any
case the little word von is not entitled in this question to the
prominent place which Jostes and Wrede are willing to
bestow upon it.

Wrede assumes that the Heliand originated in a part of
Germany in which Low German is no longer spoken
to-day. He consequently reconstructs the dialect of what
he regards as the home of the poet, with the aid of the
neighboring Low German , and Midland German dialects.
Since Frisian, as we have seen, was probably at some time
also spoken in the same vicinity, the result is a reconstructed
dialect from which Wrede is able to produce almost any
variety of dialectic forms, whether commonly called Saxon,
or Frisian, or Franconian. And yet, this remarkable dia-
lect— or rather combination of dialects — does not account for
some of the most notable peculiarities of the Heliand. Not,
e. g., for a number of preterits in st, which deserve our
attention the more since they are not mentioned by either
Jostes 3 or Wrede.

T/on in the Rustringer, Brokmer, Emsigo, Fivelgo, and Hunsigo MSS.,
fan in the two printed texts from Westerlauwer Friesland. See Richthofen,
Altfries. Worterb. s. v. fon.

*Allsachs. Elementarbuch, \ 127.

3 Jostes (1. c., p. 77) says : " The number of reasons therefore which point
for the origin of the Heliand toward the East is quite considerable, whereas
such as would speak for the West do not in reality exist" ("wdhrend solche,
die fur den Westen sprechen, in Wirklichkeit gar nicht vorhanden sind"). This
statement, it seems to me, would be more correct if Jostes had reversed
the terms East and West.

130 HERMANN COLLITZ.

The equivalent of Engl. 'I could' is in theHeliand Jconsta,
subj. kunsti or konsti. Similarly we have from the verb
unnan ' to grant ' the preterit onsta, and from far-munan ' to
disdain ' the preterit far-munsta or far-monsta. Such pre-
terits occur only in the Low, Middle, and Rheno-Franconian
dialects. They are not used in modern literary Dutch, where
the preterit of ik kan is, in the written language, ik konde or
ik kon. But their modern offshoots1 are found in Belgian
and Dutch dialects, and on the borderline between the Nether-
lands and Germany south of a line connecting Leiden with
Uddel in the Veluwe (near Utrecht) and running from there
to Muhlheim on the Ruhr. These preterits are not, as is
sometimes assumed, old forms, but are new formations,
shaped after the analogy of the preterit dorsta which belongs
to the old verb dorsan * to dare.' The old and genuine forms
are found in Goth. Icwrfya, A.-S. cu\ey MHG. kunde; in A.-S.
ii\e, MHG. g-unde; and in Goth, munda, A.-S. munde?

Here then we have in the Heliand an unmistakable trace
of Franconian dialect, and one on which the more stress is to
be laid since these preterits are found in our MSS. — as far as
the st is concerned — without a variant.3

If the preterits in -st- are Franconian and cannot be
anything else, there is no reason to abandon the derivation
from the Franconian dialect of the diphthongs uo and ie
(e. g., in muodar mother = Sax. modar, or in hie he = Sax.
he) in favor of the one suggested by Wrede (p. 342). Nor
can I regard Wrede's complicated hypothesis as to ml and

1 Viz., forms like ik kos or kost 'I could,' plur. kossen or kosten (subj. kos,
pi. kosten) and ik begos ' I began.'

3 See on the above preterits my introduction to Bauer's Dictionary of the
Waldeck Low German dialect (which is to appear within a few months in
the series of dictionaries published by the Low German Dialect Society),
p. 69.*

3 It happens that no preterit of kunnan, unnan, or munan occurs in the
Prague or Vatican fragments. But since Cottonianus and Monacensis are,
as to the st, in complete harmony, there can be no doubt that the s<-forrus
belong to the original.

THE HOME OF THE HELIAND. 131

mik as an improvement on the simple explanation given
recently by Tumpel.1

Our result then is that the language of the Heliand points
to the Western part of the Saxon territory, or rather to that
part of Germany where from the earliest times we find the
Low Franconian, Frisian, and Saxon dialects in close proximity.
But the difficulty begins as soon as we attempt to identify
the dialect of our poem with that of a particular locality.
For, although the three dialects have been neighbors for
many centuries, there exists nowhere now, and as far as we
can see there has never existed, in actual speech, such a com-
bination of various features from the three dialects as is
found in the Heliand.

The difference between the Heliand and the spoken dialects
is seen, e. g., in the pronoun ' other/ which in the Heliand
form is othar.2 This form is identical with Old Frisian other,
and is characterized as Frisian (or Anglo-Frisian) by the
change of the original group an]> to o]>. The original sounds,
short a followed by a nasal, are preserved not only in Gothic
arityar, but also in the modern Low Franconian and Low
Saxon dialects, where we find ander (or in some dialects
anner or cirjer). There is no modern dialect to warrant the
opinion that the pronoun othar was ever found in a district
in which the preterit of kunnan is konsta. The area of these
forms is at present separated by a neutral zone in which
neither the st of konsta nor the long o of othar occur. I have

lNiederd. Studien, p. 131.

8 othar is both in C and in M by far the most frequent form. In M it
occurs, according to Schmeller's Glossar. Saxon., 91 times. The regular
Low German form andar (which however occurs, besides othar, also in Old
Frisian) is found only in two instances (andran 1263, ander 1444) in C alone,
and cannot be ascribed to the original. A third form athar or actor, which
occurs twice in C (athres 1478, adron 1536), three times in M (adrum 1271,
athrana 1434, adrom 2985), and once in Gen. (d$ar 211), looks like a combi-
nation of the two other forms and is perhaps merely a graphical variant
of othar.

132 HERMANN COLLITZ.

mentioned before that preterits developed from konsta are
found south of a line which connects Leiden with Utrecht
and Miihlheim. Here the pronoun 'other' is at present
generally agV. North of this line \ve have a belt of dialects
in which the nth of Goth, arityar and kun]>a has become nd,
as in Dutch ander and wij Jconden. Finally we meet further
north with the Frisian dialects, in which the n is in both
forms lost before the following spirant, as in English ' other '
and ' I could ; ' e. g., Modern West Fris. oar ' other ' and ik
koe i I could.'

The difficulty cannot be solved by asserting that at the
time of the Heliand there may have existed between Frisian
and the present northern boundary line of the preterits with
st a dialect which combined the forms konsta and othar. If
konsta had ever extended northward into Frisian territory,
this would have led in Modern Dutch to a preterit kos or
koste instead of kon or konde. Nor can othar have extended
southward beyond the boundary line of the preterits with st,
because this again would be incompatible with the existence
of konde in Modern Dutch. For the same phonetic law
which has done away with the nasal in the pronoun arityar
would have applied to the nasal in the preterit kon]>a (Goth.
kun]>a). Regularly tlien the preterit konde goes together in
Dutch with ander, as in Middle High German and Middle
Low German kunde with ander ; and on the other hand in
Modern Frisian koe (= Old Fris. *kuthe) with oar (= Old
Fris. other), as in A.-S. cifye with o]>er, and in English
1 could ' with ' other.' l

But why not assume that the mixed dialect of the Heliand
is due to various scribes or perhaps to a compromise between

xAs regards the former boundary between Franconian, Saxon, and Frisian,
I may refer to K. v. Richthofen's map, " Friesland im 9. Jahrh.," in his
Unlersuchungen zur friesischen Rechtsyeschichte, Vol. 2 (also published sepa-
rately in Zwei Karlen wn Friesland im 9. und im 13. Jahrh., von K. v.
Richthofen. Berlin, 1882). Maps of the modern Dutch dialects are found
in Jellinghaus, Die niederldnd. Volksmundarlen (Norden, 1892), and in
Paul's Grundriss d. german. Philologie, Vol. I, 2nd ed. (Nr. 4, Strassb., 1899).

THE HOME OF THE HELIAND.

133

the dialect of the poet and that of his scribe? We might
say, e. g., that a SaxoD poet, not versed in the art of writing,
availed himself of the assistance of a Frisian scribe, who
perhaps lived on Franconian soil, or whose manuscript was
soon afterwards copied by a Franconian. The chief objection
to this or similar views is the fact that a mixed dialect,
closely resembling that of the Heliand, is found in various
other 'Old Saxon7 writings, e. g., in the fragments of a
Commentary to the Psalms1 and in the Essen Confession.2
In both the characteristic Frisian other is found (oiher[^imu\
Ps., othra Conf.) ; and in the Conf. there occurs the Franco-
niau preterit bigowta, while in the Comm. to the Psalms the
Saxon o (e. g., in tote) is generally replaced by the Franconian
diphthong uo (e. g., tunte, guodlica, bluodo, fuoti, duonne).
Similar forms might be quoted from other 'Old Saxon7 texts,
e. g., from several of the manuscripts which contain Old
Saxon glosses. It is scarcely probable that all these different
texts should have been written under similar conditions and
should presuppose the same complicated situation : an author
unacquainted with writing, and a scribe who made it a point
to write in three different dialects : — his own, that of the
author, and a third which was neither his nor the author's.
Even if we modified the theory so as to limit the activity of
the first scribe to two dialects and make for the third dialect
a set of later scribes responsible, as a steadily recurring
combination this would not appear credible; nor does it
agree with what we know of the circumstances in which some
of these texts were written.3

There seems to remain then only one possibility. We shall
have to acknowledge in the language of the Heliand a mere
literary and artificial mixture of dialects, similar to the com-

]E. Wadstein, Kteinere altsdchs. Sprachdenkmaler (Norden, 1899), Nr. n.
*lbid., Nr. in.

3E. g., the Confession was written in a Westphalian convent (Essen) ; see
Wadstein, 1. c., p. 124.

134 HERMANN COLLJTZ.

bination of Low Franconian with Middle High German in
Veldeke's poetry, or to that of Aeolic with Ionic and other
Greek dialects in the Homeric poems. Such a blending of
different dialects is in no case merely arbitrary. As a rule it is
rather forced upon the poet by circumstances, and is generally
due to a compromise between the dialect of the poet and that
of his public, or more frequently that of an inherited poetry.
In the latter case the mixture of dialects generally furnishes a
valuable aid for tracing the different stages through which
a certain species of poetry has gone. In case, e. g., of the
Homeric poems the mixture of Aeolic, Ionic, and other dia-
lects indicates that epic poetry was first developed among the
Aeolic tribes in Asia Minor, that from these it passed to
the neighboring lonians, and afterwards to the Greeks of the
islands and of the continent.

It seems to me that similar conclusions may be drawn from
the language of the Heliand. For the Heliand belongs only
to the latest stage in the development of Early Germanic epic
poetry. The poet may have drawn on the heathen poetry of
his people not only for his metre and rhythm, his style and
his vocabulary, but also for his dialect. Not he then but
the Old Germanic heroic poetry would be responsible for the
admixture of Frisian and Franconian.

We might claim that this view was possible, or probable,
even if there existed no remains of an earlier poetry with
which to compare our poem. Yet we are fortunate to possess,
in the song of Hildebrand and Hadubrand, at least one
fragment of German heroic poetry from the time before
the introduction of Christianity, and in this fragment we meet
with a mixed dialect quite similar to that of the Heliand.

We need not concern ourselves here with the controversy
whether this lay was originally composed in Low German or
in High German. Nobody will deny that in its present
shape its language forms a combination of the two dialects,
and it suffices for our purpose that its ' Low German ' ele-
ments show significant Frisian (or Anglo-Frisian) in addition

THE HOME OF THE HELIAND. 135

to the Saxon forms. E. g., the word for ' other ' is in the
Hildebrandsliecl oder (1. 12, ibu du mi enan sages, ik ml de
odre uuet ' if you tell me one, I know the others') ; Mod. Germ.
kund is chnd (= O. Fris. kuth) ; O. High Germ, gund 'com-
bat ' is gud or gitib (— A.-S. giift).1 If the Hildebrandslied
is a Low German poem, copied by a High German scribe, its
language furnishes immediate proof of the existence in Low
German poetry of Frisian forms. If it be a High German
poem, transcribed (with frequent traces of its original dialect)
into Low German, the conclusion would be that the Frisio-
Saxon dialect in which it was clothed, was that of Low
German heroic poetry.2 In either case the mixture of
Frisian and Saxon form appears as a significant feature
of heathen poetry in Northern Germany.

Whether Low Franconian forms occurred in the Hilde-
brandslied to the same extent as in the Heliand it is impossible
to decide. Since Low Franconian resembles in its conso-
nantism the Old Saxon, in its vocalism the High German
language, the Low Franconian forms cannot as a rule, in a
text like the Hildebrandslied , be distinguished from those

1 The loss of n before th is generally regarded as a peculiarity of Saxon
as well as of Anglo-Frisian, and in every Old Saxon grammar (e. g., Holt-
hausen's recently published Allsdchs. Elementarbuch, \ 191) words like othar,
solh, kulh are quoted as genuine Saxon. Yet in Middle Low German and
in the Modern Low German dialects only the word for 'south' (MLG.
suden) has this syncope, and here it is shared by Middle High German.
The phonetic law, therefore, which does away with n before th, is not Saxon
but Frisian. Cf. Bauer's Wald. Wtb. (see above, p. 130, note), p. 70* seq.,
and Bremer in Paul's Grundriss, in2, p. 866.

2 The former alternative seems to me the more probable, and I trust that
the theory set forth here may perhaps serve to weaken some of the objec-
tions which have been raised against Koegel's views (Paul's Grundriss, II,
1, p. 175 seq. of the first edition). We may, e. g., readily admit that the
vocabulary of the Hildebrandslied agrees as much with Anglo-Saxon as with
Old Saxon (see especially F. Kauffmann in Philolog. Studien, Festgabe fur
Sievers, p. 127 seq.). Considering the near relationship of Anglo-Saxon
and Frisian this would not militate against Old Saxon origin, if we assume
that Old Saxon heroic poetry preserved largely the vocabulary of its
Frisian models.

136 HERMANN COLLITZ.

which exhibit a mixture of Low German consonantism and
High German vocalism. E. g., the diphthong uo in words
like cnuosles or muotti may be regarded as Low Franconian,
or it may be in line with the High German ch in chud or the
t in gihorta and many other examples. There is, however, as
far as I am aware, nothing in the Hildebrandslied to contra-
dict the opinion that its ' Low German ' dialect compares as
to the Low Franconian elements with that of the Munich
manuscript of the Heliand.

Our manuscript of the Hildebrandslied was probably written
between the years 809 and 817,1 while the song itself is
probably at least half a century older. The Heliand may
be dated, in a round number, about 830. It follows then
that there existed previous to the time of the Heliand an
epic dialect, characterized by the same mixture of Low Saxon
with Frisian — and, we may add, probably Low Francouian —
elements. Thus the problem which the mixed dialect of the
Heliand offered, is shifted back to the history of Early
Germanic epic poetry, and it seems to me that on this ground
we are able to arrive at a satisfactory solution.

For several centuries Germanic heroic poetry flourished
especially among the Franks. To the Franks is due, more
than to other Germanic tribes, the development of the great
and complicated legend of the Nibelungen, whose historical
elements incorporate (in the characters, e. g., of Dietrich and
of the Burgundian kings) earlier Gothic and Burgundian
traditions, while its mythical elements (viz. that part of the
story which centres around the characters of Brunhild and
Siegfried) seem to rest chiefly on Frankish or more particu-
larly Rhinefrankish 2 legends. We are told that Charles the

1 These dates have been ascertained by P. Kauffinann in Feslgabe fur
Sievers, p. 136 seq.

9Cf. Sijmons, in Paul's Grundriss, ma, p. 656. Kauffmann has recently
(Zs. f. dt. Phil 31, 1899, p. 5) suggested that the Siegfried legend may have
been combined with the story of the Burgundians as late as in the tenth

THE HOME OF THE HELIAND. 137

Great had the epic songs of the Franks written down. But
the interest in these songs seems not to have been as strong
during Charles's reign as formerly ; and a century afterwards,
at the time of the monk Otfried, they were completely for-
gotten,— for Otfried l tells us that the Franks have no
poetry and that their language is not accustomed to the
restraint of metre.

Meanwhile, however, the main body of Frankish heroic
legends had found their way to the Northern countries,
where they were embodied later on in the collection of
alliterative songs which is familiar to us under the name
of the Edda. Opinions differ as to the exact line on which
the migration of these legends proceeded. But this much is
certain that we have to distinguish in the Norse tradition at
least two different layers, an earlier and a later one. As
regards the latter there is no doubt that it is based on Low
German sources and reflects the form in which the legends
were current in Northern Germany at the end of the ninth
or in the first half of the tenth century. It is probable,
however, that also the earlier set, which seems to belong to
the eighth century, goes back — directly or indirectly — to a
Low Saxon source.2

The share which fell to the Saxons in the cultivation of
epic song, reminds us of the part which they played at the
end of the middle ages in the propagation of the beast epic.
The Low German Reinke de Vos, destined to become the most
popular form of the beast epic and the source of numerous
translations, was nothing more than a skilful translation of a

century. His chief reason is that the obvious diversity in character be-
tween the two ought to prevent us from dating their union too far back.
But do the two differ more fundamentally than the mythical and the
historical elements in the Beowulf epic? It seems to me that stronger
reasons would be required to convince us that a combination which here-
tofore has been regarded as one of the characteristic features of Early
Germanic epic poetry, could militate against an early date.

lLiber Evangeliorum, i, 1, 33-36.

2 See for the particulars Sijmons, 1. c., pp. 632 and 663.

138 HERMANN COLLITZ.

Flemish work. Similarly most of their heroic songs appear
to have been mere adaptations from those of their western
neighbors. For with the exception perhaps of the legend of
Wieland the blacksmith, which is with some probability
claimed as Low German,1 there is apparently not a single
subject in the earlier heroic legends which could be regarded
as originally Saxon. This lack in originality is easily ex-
plained, if we assume that the Saxons became acquainted
with the epic poetry of the Franks at a comparatively recent
date, when the principal legends had obtained their definite
poetic garb.

Not so their western neighbors, the Frisians, in spite of
the unjust saying Frisia non cantat — which we may confidently
change into Frisia cantat, or at least Frisia cantabat — and in
spite of the unfortunate fact that not a single alliterative
poem has been handed down in pure Frisian dialect.2

Frisian heroic poetry has left its traces in Anglo-Saxon
epic songs. It is generally admitted that the fragment of
the Battle of Finnsburg and the Finn-episode in Beowulf are
derived from a Frisian source. But we are allowed to go
further and to maintain that whenever subjects from conti-
nental epic poetry are met with in Anglo-Saxon poems, the

1Sijmons, 1. c., p. 725. I should like to say, however, that even in this
case the evidence of Saxon origin is far from being conclusive. It is true
that in most of the later versions the scene is laid in Westphalia. But
there remains the possibility that the legend was fixed only later on in a
certain locality, or that the scene was changed to Saxony. In the earliest
version (Dear's Complaint] there is no indication of Saxon origin, and even
in the V01undarkvitha the local names are partly fictitious. I do not see
why under these circumstances the legend should not have originally been
Rhinefrankish or Frisian. [I have not been able to consult the recent
discussion of the Wieland legend by Jiriczek in his Deutsche Heldensagen,~\

2 From alliterative formulas, which occur frequently in the Old Frisian
laws, Koegel, Gesch. d. dt. Lit., I, 1, 242 seq., has attempted to reconstruct
portions of a Frisian legal poetry. We need not follow Koegel in these
experiments. But we may justly hold with Mullenhoff (Beovulf, p. 105)
that the important part which alliteration plays in the legal prose of the
Frisians, favors the view that it had also taken a firm hold of their poetry.
See on this question especially Siebs in Zs. f. dt. Phil. 29, p. 405 seq.

THE HOME OF THE HELIAND.

139

immediate sources were as a rule Frisian poems.1 Among
the texts which come under this point of view, belong espe-
cially the fragments of Waldere, the account of Siegmund's
heroic deeds in Beowulf (1. 875 seq.\ and Dear's Complaint.

As regards the Waldere fragments, I agree with Learned2
that they are based on an early ' Low German ' version of
the legend. Learned is inclined to ascribe this version to the
Saxons, although he himself is in doubt as to this point.
Waldere certainly differs somewhat from the later Saxon
tradition, which is found in the Thidrekssaga and which in
MiillenhofFs opinion 3 goes back to a Frankish source.
Matters may perhaps be adjusted if we assume that Frisian
poems formed the connecting link between the continental
and the Anglo-Saxon version on the one hand, and between
the Frankish and the Saxon form on the other hand.

Of the passage on Si eg round in the Beowulf and of Deor's
Complaint we may say that they represent a peculiar Anglo-
Saxon or Anglo-Frisian development of legends which
apparently took an intermediate position between the early
continental and the later Norse tradition. There is, therefore,
at least some probability that here, as in the case of Waldere,
the source of the Anglo-Saxon songs is to be sought in
Frisian tradition.

The influence of Frisian heroic poetry is furthermore
noticeable in the Middle High German popular epic. The
well known poem of Gudrun, next to the Nibelungenlied the
most important popular epic in Middle High German, is
derived from Frisian heroic poetry and preserves the traces
of its origin in its scenery, its principal characters, and in
the very name of Gudrun.4 For the genuine High German
form of this name is Gundrun or Kundrun, while Gudrun
(= Guftrun) points to a dialect in which n was lost before a
following J>, with compensatory lengthening of the preceding

JCf. Miillenhoff; Beovulf, pp. 104-108.

'2Publ. of the Mod. Lang. Assoc., vn (1892), pp. 181-185.

3Zs.f. dt.Alt. 12, p. 273 seq.

4See Miillenhoff, Zs.f. dt. Alt. 12, p. 315, and Sijmons, 1. c., p. 716.

140 HERMANN COLLITZ.

vowel, just as in 6]?ar, guft-hamun (Hildebrandslied\ and in
the other examples discussed above.

Finally it is of interest in thJs connection that the only
North German rhapsodist whose name has been handed down
to us from the time of Charles the Great was a Frisian.
His name was Bernlef, and he was a friend of the Frisian
bishop Liudger (•(- 809), the well known founder of the
monastery of Werden on the Ruhr.1

The above data, however few in number, allow of the
interpretation that in heroic poetry — or at least in certain
branches of heroic poetry — the Frisians were the pupils of
the Franks and later on became the teachers of the Saxons.
Looked upon in this light, the Frisian and Franconian
forms 2 in the Heliand (as in the HUdebrandslied) find their
natural explanation in the language of Saxon epic poetry,
which in its dialect preserves the traces of its earlier history.

We cannot in these circumstances draw from the lan-
guage of the Heliand any definite conclusions as to the
home of the poet, just as we cannot tell from the language
of the Homeric epic to which of the seven cities belonged
the honor of having produced a Homer. This much may be
said, however, that more general reasons — e. g., the close
relation of Saxon to 'Frisian poetry, and the fact that most
of the Old Saxon literary productions come from the Western
part of the country — point to Western rather than to Fastern
Saxony.

HERMANN COLLITZ.

1See on Bernlef especially Mullenhoff, Beovulf, p. 105, and Koegel, Gesch.
d. dt. Lit. i, 1, 141 seq. and 283.

2 More exactly : those Frisian and Franconian forms which belonged to
the original text of the poem and are accordingly found in most of our
MSS. The preponderance of Franconian forms in V calls for a different
explanation. If we may assume with Miillenhoff (Denkm., i3, p. xxvii
seq. ; cf. Koegel, Gesch. d. dt. Lit., i, 2, p. 558 seq.) that Kheno-Franconian
was spoken at the Carlovingian court, it seems possible to suggest that
perhaps a copy of the poem was rewritten in Franconian dialect (without,
however, effacing every trace of Saxon and Frisian) for the emperor Ludwig
the Pious, and that from this manuscript the Vatican fragments were copied.

PUBLICATIONS

OF THE

MODERN LANGUAGE ASSOCIATION OF AMERICA,

19O1.

VOL. XVI, 2. NEW SERIES, VOL. IX, 2.

VIII.— THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-
SAXON.

INTRODUCTION.
I.

The twofold nature of the participle is sufficiently attested
by the fact that it is universally defined as a verbal adjective.
The genesis of this twofold nature has been interestingly
discussed by Brugmann (I. F., V, 88 ff. ; Gr. Gr.3 §§ 479 f.)
and by Delbriick (u, p. 477). Mine is the humbler task of
pointing out the various manifestations of this dual nature as
exemplified in the appositive use of the participle in Anglo-
Saxon ; to which is appended a brief survey of the same
phenomena in the other Germanic languages. This is by no
means an easy task, since the same participle may be domi-
nantly adjectival in one sentence, prevailingly verbal in
another, and equally divided between the two in a third.
Of course, too, a participle may be used as a noun ; but in
such case it ceases to be a participle; hence in this paper
no account is taken of the substantivized participle. How-
ever, certain adverbial uses of the participle are treated.

The difficulty of our problem is further aggravated by the
diversity of meaning attached to the same term by different

141

142 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

grammarians. At the outset, therefore, it is necessary to
define the terms used in this monograph. The study is based
upon a twofold classification of the participle : (I) According
to the nature of the participle; (II) According to the relation-
ship of the participle to its subject (or principal).

According to its nature, a participle is (1) verbal when the
assertive force is dominant, and (2) adjectival when the descrip-
tive force is dominant; as a rule, the verbal participle denotes
an act in the widest sense, while the adjectival denotes a state.
These terms, of course, are relative only, and under different
collocations each is equally applicable to the same word.
Thus, in the phrase, the shining sun, shining is adjectival,
if not an adjective ; while in the sentence, The sun, shining
through the trees, lighted our path, the participle is verbal.
But, despite this relativity, the distinction is of great import-
ance; and it is possible to mark off certain more or less
stable groups. The preterite participle, for instance, is more
adjectival than the present ; as the present participle with
an object is more verbal than one without an object. Occa-
sionally, too, a participle is so constantly used adjectivally
that it becomes an adjective proper, as in the case of the
Latin sanctus, the A.-S. cu$f etc. The completely adjectiv-
ized participle is not treated in this monograph.

According to its relationship to its principal, a participle
is (A) independent (or absolute) when its subject is gram-
matically independent of the rest of the sentence, and (B)
dependent (or conjoint) when its subject is not grammati-
cally independent of the rest of the sentence, but is intimately
bound up therewith. Examples are: — (A): Bede1 284. 20:
swa eallum geseondum upp in heofonas gewat = Bede2 220. 1 1 :
sic uidentibus cunctis ad alia subduxit (see my Abs. Ptc. in
A.-S., p. 5 ff.) ; — (B) : Luke 4. 40: he syndrygum hys hand
onsettende hig gehcelde = ille singulis manus imponens curabat
eos. The dependent (or conjoint) participle may be sub-
divided into (1) predicative (or supplementary, cf. Goodwin,
Moods and Tenses, § 877), when the participle is joined to its

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 143

subject by means of a verb ; (2) non-predicative (or assump-
tive, cf. Sweet, § 44), when not joined to its subject by the
instrumentality of a verb. The predicative participle may be
subdivided into (a) predicate nominative and (6) predicate
accusative; the non-predicative (or assumptive), into (a)
attributive, when the connection between the participle and
its principal is so close that the two constitute one indivisible
idea, and (b) appositive, when the connection between the
participle and its principal is so loose that the two seem to
constitute two independent ideas ; or, to use the words of
Sweet (§ 90) : " When the subordination of an assumptive
(attributive) word to its head-word is so slight that the two
are almost co-ordinate, the adjunct-word is said to be in
apposition to its head-word." A few examples will suffice
for illustration : — (1) Predicative (or Supplementary) : (a)
Predicate Nominative : Elene 492 : Stephanus wees stanum
worpod; — ib. 486 : fta ¥>y ftriddan dceg lifgende aras, etc. ; —
(6) Predicate Accusative : Luke 22. 56 : Da hine geseah sum
ftinen cet leohte sittende = quern cum vidisset ancilla qucedam
sedentem ad lumen; — Bl. Horn. 218. 7 : iSa mette he ftane man
forftferedne, etc. ; — (2) Non-predicative (or Assumptive) : (a)
Attributive : Beow. 741 : he gefeng hrafte forman sifte slce-
pendne rinc; — ib. 581 : Da mec see oftbcer . . . wadu weal-
lendu; — ib. 1245 : %cer on hence wees . . . yftgesene . . . hringed
byrne; — ib. 216 : guman ut scufon . . . wudu bundenne, etc.; —
(6) Appositive: Mat. 9. 12 : seHwlend cwceft, %is gehyrende =
At Jesus audiens, ait; — Luke 1. 74 : ¥>cet we butan ege of ure
feonda handa alysede him fteowian = Ut sine timore, de manu
. . . liberati, serviamus illi; — Mat. 8. 9 : Softlice ic eom man
under anwealde gesett == Nam et ego homo sum sub potestate
constitutus; — JElfr. Horn. I, 62a : lohannes beseah to heofonum,
%us cweftende, etc.

. No originality is claimed for the above classification ; for,
although I have not found the system as a whole in any
treatise, almost every one of the terms is substantially so
used in one or more standard works. Nor is the system

144 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

looked upon as ideal ; it is given merely because it seems
a fair working scheme for this monograph. But, while I
believe that all my terms are clear as above defined and
exemplified, the word appositive demands more extended
treatment, since it gives the title to this paper.

II.

Remoteness from the larger libraries precludes my giving
a complete history of the phrase appositive participle ; and
I must content myself with a brief statement concerning the
more important grammatical treatises that have been accessi-
ble to me. Fortunately, as a reference to the bibliography
will show, I have been able to consult all the most significant
monographs (old as well as new) on the participle in Anglo-
Saxon and in the other Teutonic tongues.

The phrase appositive participle is not used as a distinct
category by Grimm, Becker, Matzner, Koch, March, Sweet,
or Delbriick among the Germanic grammarians, or by Classen,
Draeger, Gildersleeve, or Goodwin among the classicists. The
locution seems to have been habitually used first 1 by Kriiger
and Curtius in their Greek grammars, by Madvig in his Latin
grammar, by Gabelentz and Lobe in their Gothic grammar,
and by Vernal eken in his Deutsche Syntax; and its present
currency is perhaps largely due to the wide popularity of
these works, especially the first three.

By the grammarians who regularly make use of the phrase,
two distinct definitions have been given. The one set restricts
the term appositive to the participle that is equal to a de-
pendent adverbial (conjunctive) clause, while the other extends
it also to the participle that is equivalent to a dependent adjec-
tival (relative) clause. Judged by their definitions, Kriiger
and Curtius originally sided with the former. Kriiger's state-

JIn his Greek grammar of 1829 (pp. 469, 474), however, Bernhardy ha»
a few words concerning the appositive use of the participle.

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 145

ment is as follows (p. 21 5 l): "Die appositive Participial-
construction und ihr zur Seite gehend die absolute sind eine
unklarere Ausdrucksweise fur Satze die mit dem Hauptsatze
in einem temporalen oder realeu Verhaltnisse stehen." Ex-
amples are cited of the appositive participle in (1) temporal,
(2) conditional, (3) causal, and (4) concessive clauses, but not
in adjectival (relative) clauses, though under the head of
temporal uses (p. 217, 10, Anmk. 1) this remark is made:
" In vielen Fallen iibersetzen wir die Participia durch das
Relativ oder durch Conjunctionen." To the same effect is
the definition of Curtius (§ 579 2) : " Das Particip dient dazu,
einem Substantiv etwas als eine nur voriibergehende Eigen-
schaft oder Thatigkeit beizulegen. In diesem Falle ist das
Particip eine kurze und unbestimmtere Ausdrucksweise fiir
das, was sonst durch Nebensatze mit Conjunctionen der
verschiedensten Art ausgedriickt wird." In the following
sections (580-583) he gives examples of the appositive parti-
ciple in (1) temporal, (2) causal and final, (3) concessive, and
(4) conditional clauses; adding this note3: "Bei dem man-
nichfaltigen Gebrauch der appositiven Participien ist nicht
zu iibersehen, dass ein solches Particip an sich keine der in
§§ 580-583 entwickelten Bedeutungen deutlich ausdruckt,
dass wir vielmehr nur zur Ubersetzung uns der einen oder
der andern Wenduug bedienen, um dasselbe in scharferer
Weise auszusprechen, was durch das Particip nur angedeutet

ll quote from the fifth edition of his Attische Syntax (Leipzig, 1873),
but the same statement, I have been informed, occurs in the first edition
{Leipzig, 1843).

2 1 quote from the ninth edition (Prag, 1870), but substantially the same
statement is made in the first edition (Prag, 1852). And in the chapter
on the Participle in his Erlduterungen3 (p. 203) Curtius thus acknowledges
his indebtedness to Kriiger: "In der Gliederung dieser Gebrauchsweisen
bin ich wesentlich K. W. Kriiger gefolgt, ohne jedoch in der Reihenfolge
mich ihm anzuschliessen." — My quotation is from the third edition of the
Erlduterungen (1875), but it does not differ essentially from the statement
of the first edition (1863).

3 This note is not in the first edition of the grammar.

146 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

ist." Gering specifically restricts the appositive participle
to adverbial clauses (p. 393) : " Wahrend das attributive
particip bestimmend und erklarend zu dem nomen tritt, dient
das appositive dazu, gewisse adverbialle nebenbestimmungen
der handlung auszudriicken. Es bezeichnet daher, in welcher
zeit, aus welchem grunde, in welcher absicht, unter welchen
bedingungen oder einschrankungen, durch welche mittel, auf
welche art und weise eine person oder ein gegenstand etwas
ausfiihrte oder erlitt. Characteristisch fiir das appositive
particip ist es, dass es nie den artikel bei sich hat." The
same restriction is made by Karl Kohler and by Kiihn,
though the latter does not use the term appositive, but speaks
of the use of the participle " in eigentlicher participialer
Funktion in Vertretung eines Adverbialsatzes."

I But, despite the high standing of Kriiger, Curtius, and
Gering, the restriction of the appositive participle to ad-
verbial uses seems unwise.| Indeed, it may be doubted
whether Curtius intended so to limit the term by the defini-
tion above quoted ; if so, he afterwards changed his mind,
for in his Erlauterungen* (p. 203) he gives a definition of
the appositive participle that includes its use in adjectival
(relative) as well as in adverbial (conjunctive) clauses : " Der
1 appositive Gebrauch ' schliesst sich an die § 361, 12 gegebene
Definition der Apposition an. Wie ich unter Apposition
einer Zusatz loserer Art verstehe, welcher in der Regel
synonym mit einem beschreibenden Zwischen — oder Neben-
satz ist, so entsprechen die appositiven Participien als
kiirzere, losere und deshalb auch weniger bestimmte Aus-
drucksweisen wesentlich demselben Zwecke, der in festerer
Weise durch relative1 und Conjunctionssatze erreicht wird."
The remainder of his comment, though not on this point, is
too instructive to omit: u Classen in seinen oben (S. 173)
erwahnten Beobachtungen iiber den homerischen Sprachge-
brauch nennt den von mir appositiv genannten Gebrauch

xThe italics are mine.

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 147

practical! v. Ich verkenne nicht, dass sich auch diese Bezeich-
nung rechfertigen lasst, insofern als das appositive Particip,
unterschieden vom attributiven, allerdings eine aussagende,
pradicirende Kraft besitzt, die am entschiedensten in den abso-
luten Participialconstructionen hervortritt. Allein es scheint
mir doeh gerathener, d,en Ausdruck pradicatives Particip mit
Kruger auf denjenigen Gebrauch zu beschranken, bei welchem
das Particip zur Erganzung eines verbalen Pradicats dient
(§ 589 bis 594) und als solches einen wesentlichen Theil
der Aussage bildet." Verualeken leaves no doubt as to his
position (p. 502) : " Das partizip welches dazu dient einem
substantiv etwas als eine nur voriibergehende eigenschaft oder
thatigkeit beizulegen, also appositionell steht, und so eine
kiirzere ausdrucksweise ist fur das, was sonst durch neben-
satze mit bindewortern oder dem relativ ausgedriickt wird,
findet sich," etc. ; which definition clearly includes adjective
(relative) as well as adverbial (conjunctive) clauses. With
this O. Erdmann substantially agrees ; for, while he does not
use the phrase appositive participle, it is clear that his
selbstdndiges Parlicipium of the following quotation corresponds
to Vernaleken's appositive participle (Syntax d. Spr. Otfrids,
p. 214) : " Die verbale Natur des Participiums tritt nicht
immer in gleichem Masse hervor. Ich stiche bei einem jeden
der beiden Participia, welche die ahd. Sprache besitzt, die
Belege mit Riicksicht hierauf zu orduen, und unterscheide
drei Abschnitte, je nachdem das Participium eine selbstandige,
von der Handlung des Hauptsatzes unterschiedene Tatigkeit
aussagt, oder pradicativ mit dem Verbum zu dern Begriffe
einer einzigen Tatigkeit verschmilzt, oder endlich attributiv
wie em Adj. gebraucht wird urn eine dem Gegenstande, auf
welchen es sich bezieht, stetig inwohnende Eigenschaft zu
bezeichnen." In his examples Erdmann cites participles that
represent adjectival as well as adverbial clauses ; as does
Mourek, who (p. 33) speaks of the participle " in selbstand-
iger, pradicativer, satzvertretender apposition." With the
exception of K. Kohler and of Kiihn, who, as already stated,

148 MORGAN CALL A WAY, Jli.

restrict the appositive participle to adverbial clauses, all l the
writers on Old English Syntax named in the bibliography
include under the appositive use of the participle adjectival
as well as adverbial clauses. Some (Conradi, Einenkel,
Flamme, Hoser, Kempf, Mohrbutter, Schurmann, Wiilfing 2)
use the phrase appositive participle; others (Furkert, Hertel,
Planer, Reussner, Seyfarth, Spaeth, Wohlfahrt) speak of the
" eigentliches Participium zur Abkurzung eiries Satzes"
(Wohlfahrt, p. 39); and others (Koch, Matzner, March,
Sweet) have no specific designation for the construction.

Another apparently divergent interpretation calls for brief
mention. The standard New High German grammars of
Brandt, von Jagemann, Thomas, and Whitney regularly use
the expression appositive participle to indicate, in the words
of Thomas, " an appositional predicate, which denotes a con-
comitant act or state ; " but " such a participle or participial
phrase is," according to Whitney6 (§ 357), "used only in the
sense of an adjective clause, and expresses ordinarily an
accompanying circumstance, or describes a state or condition ;
it may not be used, as in English, to signify a determining
cause, or otherwise adverbially." But, as a following note
by Whitney and some examples cited by Thomas show, this
statement is somewhat too strong, for in New High German
an appositive participle is occasionally used in place of a
dependent adverbial clause. Moreover, in making the above
remark, Whitney intended to acquaint his reader with New
High German usage and not to give a general definition of a
grammatical term.

To sum up the matter: by a number of eminent gram-
marians the phrase appositive participle is not used as a
distinct category ; by others equally eminent it is habitually
used, but in different senses. Of the latter some restrict

1 Except the older grammarians (Hickes, Lye, and Manning), who do
not treat the construction of the appositive participle.

"Wiilfing's treatment of the Appositive Participle has not appeared
as yet.

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 149

the appositive use to the participle that is equivalent to an
adverbial clause, while others make it include adjectival as
well as adverbial clauses. The latter usage, though not
universal, is becoming general, especially with students of
Germanic grammar.

To me the general introduction of this term into our text-
books seems highly desirable, since it would extend to the
use of the participle what the student had already I learned
with reference to the noun. As the statistics show, I include
under appositive the participle that is equivalent to an adjec-
tival clause as well as that which is equal to an adverbial clause.!
The uses of the adverbial appositive participle correspond
closely to those of the subordinate adverbial clause, but are
so varied as to call for treatment in a separate chapter (n.).

III.

The appositive use of the participle is common to the
Indo-Germanie languages, but by no means equally common.
Greek leads the others, and Latin is far in advance of the
Germanic languages. An instructive general treatment of
the subject is given by Jolly in his Zur Lehre vom Partieip
and by Delbriick in his Syntax. To the works named by
Delbriick I may add those of Boiling, Fay, Helm, Koberlin,
Milroy, and Tammelin, which throw no little light on the
appositive participle in Latin and in Greek. Of works on
the appositive participle in the Germanic languages exclusive
of English a brief account is given in Chapter v.

In the article just referred to, Jolly maintains that the
attributive use of the participle preceded the appositive, and
that the appositive preceded the predicative, which latter he
considers a younger variation of the appositive. In Anglo-
Saxon it is probable, I think, that the attributive use preceded
the appositive, the latter growing out of the former when thrust
into post-position, either because the noun had several parti-
ciples modifying it at once or because the participle was itself

150 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

modified (see section iv., below). The appositive use of the
adjectival participle may have preceded the predicative use
of the participle; for the appositive adjectival participle is
common in Anglo-Saxon poetry, while, as Pessels (p. 49)
has shown, the predicative participle of the progressive tenses
is very rare in Anglo-Saxon poetry, though common in the
prose. But the appositive use of the verbal participle, at
least of the participle governing a direct object, is most
probably of later development in English than the predica-
tive use of the present participle ; since the progressive tenses
are very common in the works of Alfred (nearly 600 exs.,
according to Pessels, p. 51), while the appositive participle
with a direct object is practically unknown to him (only 18
exs., of which 17 are in direct translation of a Latin apposi-
tive participle), and does not become frequent until the time
of .ZElfric (see Statistics). But we must turn from these
speculative questions to matters about which a reasonable
degree of certainty is possible.

IV.

In Anglo-Saxon the appositive participle occurs by far
most frequently in the nominative case, as is true also in
Lithuanian (Delbriick, p. 490) and in Old High German
(Mourek). For the representation of the several cases in
Anglo-Saxon see the statistics.

The inflexion of the appositive participle is as follows : —
(1) Present: — The nominative singular of all genders has
-ende, with these exceptions: -end occurs three times in the
masculine (Boeth. 8. 5,^lfr. L. S. 282. 5,JSlfr. Hept. (Judges)
4. 22), and once in the feminine (Bede l 72. 3) ; by confusion
of inflected infinitive with participle, Benel has -enne for -ende
four times (95. 11, 114. 10, 61. 7, all masc. ; 98. 6, fern.),
-an for -and once (29. 11, masc.), and -endre for -ende
once (16. 9); Boeth.1 73. 22 has -inde, m. The GSMN. has

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 151

-endes except once, in Benet (109. 2: secgende). The GSF. is
-endre except once, in ^Elfric (L. S. xxni. B. 426 : fteneende).
The DSMN. is usually -endum (20 exs.), but is -ende occa-
sionally (7 exs. : 1 in Alfred, 1 in Benedict, 5 in .ZElfric), and
-endan, weak, once (Luke 6. 49). The DSF. is -endre normally
(4 exs.), rarely -ende (1 ex. : J^lfric). The ASM. is -endue 21
times,1 but -ende 28 times (Alfred 3, JElfric 8, A.-S. Horn. &
L. S. 5, Gospels 6, Poems 6). The ASF. is invariably -ende.
The ASN. is -ende except once (Chron. 656 E : ewastiend). The
N. and APMFN. is -ende except twice in Benet (21. 7 : be-
cumene for becumende, apm. ; 26. 14 : stirienda, apn.). The
GP. is -endra (14 exs.) except twice in Benet (69. 1 : etenday
78. 12: utgangendre). The DP. is -endum (30 exs.) except
twice (jElfr. de v. et n. Test 5. 34: far ende ; A.-S. Horn. &
L. ofS. 1,7.151: ib.).

(2) Preterite :— The NSMN. is -ed (-od2 -ad2; -t2) for
weak and -en for strong verbs. The NSF. is regularly
uninflected (64 exs.), being -ed for strong and -en for
weak verbs ; except twice in .ZElfric (Horn. II, 90a2 : fortredene,
weak ; L. S. xxui. B. 524 : gedrefedu). The GSMN. is once
-es (Chron. 1100 E) and once -ed (Christ 20: forwyrned).
The GSF. is -re (2 exs.). The DSMN. is sometimes inflected
(-urn (-an) : 11 exs. : EWS. 7, Gosp. 1, Benet 1, Poems 2),
but is oftener not inflected (21 exs.: -ZElfric 17, A.-S. Horn.
& L. S. 2, Poems 2). The DSF. is occasionally inflected
(-re: 4 exs.: Alfred 1, JElfric 2, Gosp. 1), but usually not
(14 exs. : Bl. Horn. 1, ^Ifric 12, A.-S. Horn. & L. S. 1). The
ASM. is sometimes inflected (-ne: 47 exs. : Alfred 10, JElfric
17, Gosp. 11, Poems 8, Benet 1), sometimes not (33 exs.:
Alfred 1, ^Elfric 28, Poems 4). The ASF. is half the time
inflected (-e: 18 exs. : Alfred 3, ^Elfric 2, A.-S. Horn. & L.
S. 1, Gosp. 1, Wulfst. 1, Poems 10), the other half not (17
exs.: Alfred 1, ^Ifric 6, A.-S. Horn. & L. S. 1, Wulfst. 3,

1In one of these (Benet 107. 7) the text has -enne for -endne.
J These regular variants of -ed- will not be specified hereafter.

152 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

Benet 2, Poems 4). The ASN. is uninflected except in Bede
314. 14 (getrymede, but MS. Ca.: getrymed). The N. and
APM. is habitually inflected (-e: over 200 exs., in all the
texts), but occasionally not (15 exs. : E. W. S. 4, A.-8. Horn. &
L. S. 1, Bend 1, Poems 9). The N. and APF. is invariably
inflected (-e 29 exs.; -u 1 ex.: Benet 92. 15, but see note
thereon in statistics). The N. and APN. is usually in-
flected (-e: 24 exs.; -an, weak, 1 ex.: Bede1 182. 23), but
is uninflected at times (13 exs. : ^Elfred 2, Bened. 1, Poems
10). The GP. is inflected regularly (-ra: 13 exs.) except
once in the Chron. (656 E : leered). The DP. is inflected
four times (-urn), and is uninflected three times (^Elfred 1,
JElfric 2).

It is evident, therefore, that in Anglo-Saxon, especially in
Late West Saxon and in the poems, the appositive participle
is often not inflected, much oftener indeed than is stated in
Sievers's Angelsdchsische Grammatik.3 The same is true of
Old High German (Mourek, p. 19; O. Erdmann, Syntax d.
Spr. Otfrids, § 355) and of Old Saxon (Pratje, § 156), but
not of Gothic (Gering, p. 393).

Again, the inflexion of the appositive participle in Anglo-
Saxon is almost invariably strong. In this sentence from
the Blickling Homilies (107. 20 : D« eaftmodan heortan and
%a forhtgendan and fta bifigendan and iSa cwacigendan and %a
ondrcedendan heora Scyppend, neforhogaft fta ncefre God ne ne
forsyhft), the weak participle, ondrcedendan, has an object, and
is partly attributive and partly appositive. The sentence
illustrates well, I think, the passage of the attributive into
the appositive use of the participle ; the participle is thrust
into post-position because its principal has several participial
modifiers, and because the participle itself has a direct object
(see section in., above). Sometimes, even in pre-position, the
weak participle is strongly appositive, as in Luke 6. 49 : He
is gelic ftam timbriendan men his hus ofer fta eorftan = similis
est homini aedificanti domum super terram; — Bede1 182. 23 :
wees geworden ftcette ftcere seolfan neahte %a brohton (MS. B. :

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 153

gebrohtan) ban ute awunedon = 148. 17 : factum est ut . . . .
reliquiae adlatae foris permanerent ; ib. 24. 22 ; JElfr. Horn.
II., 90*2 ; JElfr. L. S. xxvn. 117. Compare, too, Bede1 130.
33 : ftcet he sceolde his freond %one betstan in neede gesetum
(MS. B. : gesettari) in gold bebycgan = 110. 9 : amicum suum
optimum in necessitate positum auro uendere. Mourek (p. 46)
cites three examples of the appositive participle with weak
inflection in Tatian.

In Anglo-Saxon the appositive participle regularly follows
its principal (post-position), though occasionally it precedes
(pre-position : about 100 exs. in all, of which 8 occur in the
Poems). Typical illustrations are : Matthew 8. 25 : hy awehton
hyne, %us cweftende = suscitaverunt eum, dieentes; Beowulf
1819: we scelffiend secgan wylla^^feorran cumene; Beow. 721 :
Com . . . rinc stf&ian dreamum bedceled; — Math. 2. 11 : gangende
into %am huse, hi gemetton ¥>cet did mid Marian = intrantes
domum invenerunt puerum; Beow. 1581 : slcepende frcet folces
Denigea fyjtyne men. It should be added that it is particu-
larly difficult to distinguish between the post-positive attribu-
tive and the appositive participle ; but what Mourek (p. 44)
says of Tatian seems to me true of Anglo-Saxon in general :
most post-positive participles are appositive rather than
attributive.

154 MOKGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

CHAPTER I.

STATISTICS OF THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE
IN ANGLO-SAXON.

Explanatory Note.

With the exception of the glosses and of a few otit-of-prints,
I have made a statistical reading of the whole of Anglo-
Saxon literature and of the more definitely known Latin
originals of the prose texts. For a detailed statement, see the
bibliography.

Within the respective groups the works are arranged
approximately in their chronological order, except the Minor
Poems, which are given in their alphabetic order.

For the light that it throws upon Anglo-Saxon and Ger-
manic syntax, the participle with an object is everywhere
separated from the participle without an object. Obviously
the distinction is of less importance for the preterite than
for the present participle. As applied to the present parti-
ciple, the term object has its usual signification ; as applied to
the preterite participle, it includes not only the object in the
ordinary acceptation, but also any noun modifier of the
participle.

To show the inflection of the participle, each case, number,
and gender is cited separately. The abbreviations used to
designate these are self-explanatory, as nsn. = nominative,
singular, neuter, etc. Cases not cited do not occur. " Other
examples" are throughout cited in the alphabetic order of
the Anglo-Saxon participles. Compound participles are not
separated from the simple ones.

For convenience I have not distinguished $ and J>, but have
uniformly used 3.

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 155

In all of the more definitely known translations the Latin
original is given.

I have carefully compared my own statistics with those
given in the monographs upon Anglo-Saxon syntax named
in the bibliography; and but for the divergent views, already
discussed, as to what constitutes an appositive participle, I
should give in detail the results of my several collations.
However, if the definition given in each treatise is observed,
the difference is not great ; hence I shall call attention to
only the more noteworthy discrepancies disclosed by my
collations.

I have tried to make the statistics complete according to
the definition given in my Introduction. But, in such a
mass of details, occasional omissions and misclassifications
are inevitable ; I can only hope that they will not prove so
numerous or serious as to invalidate this history of the
appositive participle in Anglo-Saxon.

Finally, I trust that these statistics, which at first doubt-
less appear unnecessarily detailed, may throw some light on
several problems not germane to the purpose of this mono-
graph, such as the contested authorship of the Alfredian
works ; the Anglo-Saxon vocabulary ; the relationship of
Anglo-Saxon to Latin syntax aside from the use of the parti-
ciple, etc. ; — some of which I hope to take up at another time.

I. IN THE PROSE WORKS.

BEDE1 (180).

A. — THE PRESENT PARTICIPLE (107).
I. WITHOUT AN OBJECT (93).

1. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
appositive participle (58) : —

NSM. (23) :— 22. 34 : Da3t sum on N. ma3g$e of deafte
arisende , . . secgende WOBS = 303. 24 : Ut quidam ... a

156 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

raortuis resurgens . . . narraverit; 102. 21 is ssegd flat he
beotigende forecwsede = 83. 27 : fertur minitans praedixisse. —
Other examples: — 8. 19: becumende = 36. 4: perueniens ;
24. 3: ib. = 311. 1: ueniens; 270. 4: beotiende = 211. 10:
minitans; 22. 29 ; bodiende = 298. 27 : praedicans ; 12. 11 :
eumende = 97. 4 : ueniens ; 8. 16 : *6. = 33. 21 : nauigans ;
8. 28 : ib. = 39. 29 : reuersus ; 114. 21 : fleonde = 92. 24 :
fugiens; 190. 18 : forhtigende = 153. 1 : tremens ; 62. 13 : ge-
feonde = 47. 22 : credens ; 442. 26 : gnorniende = 314. 14:
merens ; 154. 3: grimsigende = 128. 6: saeuiens ; 204. 17:
onhleoniende = 160. 24 : incumbens ; sorgende = sollicitus,
186. 23 = 150. 29, 268. 7 = 210. 9 ; swelfende = moriens,
18. 18 = 220. 21 (or attrib. in A.-S. ?) and 286. 6 = 221. 3 ;
ib. = moriturus, 24. 5 = 313. 26 ; 410. 27 : swgende = 297.
23: tacitus; 86. 22al: wceccende = 60. 28: sciens ; 86. 22b :
(no)weotende = 61. 1 : nesciens (I insert no from MSS. Ca.
and O.).

NSF. (3) : — 332. 2 : $reo & flrittig flaem serestum heo
seSelice gefylde in weoruldhade drohtiende = 252. 23: xxxm
primos in saeculari habitu nobilissime conuersata compleuit. —
Other examples: 186. 31 : ondrcedende = 151. 10: limens ;
18. 20 : utgangende = 220. 22 : egressura.

NSN. (1):— 86. 10: mid fly fleet mood flis ne weotende
areefnefl = 60. 7 : quia hanc animum nescientem pertulisse.

NSM. or F. (2) :— 240. 26 : wol . . . grimsigende = 192.
4 : desaeuiens ; 264. 25 : ingongende = 208. 25 : egressa (the
two preceding nouns are fla stefn and %one sang. Of ingressa
the subject is vox).

NPM. (8): — 252. 2a&b: se b. and heora lareowas gefeonde
and blissigende ham hwurfon = 200. 7 : sacerdotes, doctor-
esque . . . rediere laetantes. — Other examples : — 310. 1 : feoh-
iende = 238. 19 : compugnantes ; 284. 15 : forhtiende = 220.
5: tremefactae; 312. 2: ondettende = 239. 24: professi;

1 In this text the superior letters distinguish different examples in the
same line.

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 157

54. 4: sarigende = 32. 33: dolentes ; 438. 30: siltende =
312. 11 : residens; 186. 9: sorgiende= 150. 13: sollidti.

NPN (1) :— 158. 27 : Sider gefeande coman . . . folc Godes
word to gehyranne = 132. 20: confluebant ad audiendum
verbum populi gaudentes (or pred.?).

NDM. (2) :— 430. 27 : hwerfende = 308. 7 : reuersi; 424.
20 : suigiende = 304. 30 : tacentes.

GPN. (1): — 104. 18: seo is monigra folca ceapstow of
londe and of see cumendra = 85. 11 : . . . populorum terra
marique uenientium.

DSM. (3) : — 316. 18 : swa swa me seolfum frinendum . . .
W. ssegde = 343. 12: sicut mihimet sciscitanti . . . "W.
referebat.— Other examples : 382. 22: biddendum = 280. 12:
roganti (or attrib.?); 330. 14: taltriendum = 251. 34: peri-
clitanti.

DSF. (1) : — 288. 34 : swa swa heo to hire lifigendre sprsece,
bffid ftset, etc. = 223. 5 : quasi uiuentem adlocuta, rogavit.

DPM. (4) :— 382. 17 : Sset hie mihton heora biddendum
freondum syllan = 280. 6 : quam rogantibus amicis dare . . .
possent (or attrib. ?). — Other examples : — 366. 21 : cumendum
= 271. 29 : aduenientibus ; 8. 2 : gelyfendum = 28. 15 : ere-
denies; 336. 25: wuniendum = 255. 28: manentibus.

ASM. (3) : — 228. 19: he eorre ftone cyning liggende gehran
mid 'Ssere gyrde = 174. 6 : Iratus autem tetigit Regem iacen-
fem.— Other examples : — 312. 27b : forftleorendne = 240. 22 :
procedentem; 270. 22 : iifigende (MS. Ca. : lifigendne) = 211.
30: in carne manentem.

ASN. (2):— 140. 12: he noht elles dyde . . . «on iS^t
cumende Cristes folc ftider of eallum tunum . . . mid god-
cundre lare timbrede = 115. 4: nil aliud ageret quam con-
fluentem eo . . . plebem C. . . . verbo instruere; 412. 13:
licgende =298. 9 : iacentem.

APM. (2): — 276. 12: licade us efencuman aefter "Seawe

arwyrSra rehta smeagende bi -SaBm, etc. = 215. 1 : placuit

conuenire DOS, . . . tractaturos de, etc. ; 10. 29 : hwylc wracu

hi forhogiende sefterfyligde = 81. 8: quaeue illos spernentes

158

ultio secuta est. [Miller and Smith have him for hogiende, in
which case forhogiende would be a " crude " dative plural ;
but it seems preferable to read hi forhogiende, the variant
given by Miller and Schipper, which corresponds better with
the Latin. Though Miller apparently so translates, him
could scarcely be the object of forhogiende, since accord-
ing to Wiilfing (p. 186) this verb governs the accusative
only.]

APF. (2) : — 426. 33a&b: $a geseah ic ma3nigo "Sara wergra
gasta v. monna sawla grornende & heofende teon & Isedan
on = 306. 13a&b: considero turbam malignorum spirituum,
quae quinque animas hominum merentes heiulantesque . . .
trahebat.

2. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
finite verb, which finite verb is usually in immediate connec-
tion with an appositive participle (5) : —

NSM. (3):— 160. 15: he $a gifeonde "Searfum rehte and
sealde = 135. 28 : Cuncta . . . mox hauperibus . . . erogare
gaudebat (cf. gefeonde = gaudentes in 158. 27 = 132. 20,
etc.). — Other examples: — 88. 17a&b: goiende y geomriende
cwaeft = 61. 25 : gemebat dicens.

NPM. (2) :— 250. 28 : and Cristes noman . . . gefeonde
[MS. B. : lustlice] andettan = 200. 5 : ac nomen C . . . con-
fiteri gauderent ; 240. 13: Drihtne gefeonde "Seowodon =
180. 25 : Christo . . . seruire gaudebant.

3. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
gerund in the ablative (20) : —

NSM. (16):— 22. 17a&b: Dset he his preosta zenne . . .
gebiddende j bletsigende fram dea$e gecyrde = 289. 4c&d:
orando ac benedicendo a morte reuocauerit. — Other ex-
amples: — 348. 25: bebeodende = 262. 18: commendando ;
270. 34 : dwoliende = 212. 11 : errando; 346. 3 : eodorcende
= 260. 31: ruminando; 246. 25b : gongende = 195. 21b :
incedendo ; gebiddende = orando, 8. 23b = 37. 5, 12. 10 =
93. 26, 16. 2 = 158. 27, 20. 29 = 271. 3, 22. 7b = 281. 2,
22. 11 = 285. 1, 22. 14 = 288. 1 ; ib. = benedicendo, 22. 9

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 159

= 282. 30; 246. 25* : ridende = 195. 21a : equitando ; 348.
24 : segniende = 262. 17 : signando.

NSF. (2):— 72. 3a&b: -Ssette oft [cirice is to be supplied
from earlier part of sentence] ftaet vvrSerworde yfel abeorende
and celdend (MS. O. : yldende) beweretf = 5J. 29, 30: ut
saepe malum quod aduersatur portando et dissimulando
oonpescat.

NPM. (1) : — 72. 9 : $a fte him ne ondrseda'S weotonde
syngian = 52. 1 : qui non metuunt sciendo peccare.

ASM. (1):— 22. 16a: Dset he his preosta senne of horse
fattende & gebrysedne gelice gebiddende & bletsigende fram
dea~3e gecyrde = 289. 4a : Ut clericum suum cadendo contri-
tum, aeque orando ac benedicendo a morte reuocauerit.

4. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
adjective (2) : —

NSM. (1):— 204. 3 : he . . .on -Ssere stySe stondende
forSferde = 160. 5 : . . . adclinis destinae . . . spiritum, uitae
exhalaret ultimum.

NPM. (1) : — 54. 5 : sume forhtiende on e'Sle gebidon =
33. 1 : alii perstantes in patria trepidi . . . agebant.

5. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
prepositional phrase (1) : —

NSM. (1) : — 142. 8 : ssegde he 3a3t he hine cneoht weosende
gesawe =116. 12 : et se in pueritia vidisse testabatur. [hine
here stands for here, 'sanctuary/ — Cf. Bede 188. 1 : in "Sam
mynstre . . . in $am cneohtwesendum "Sis haelo wundor ge-
worden wa3S = 151. 15: in eodem monasterio ... in quo tune
puero factum erat hoc miraculum sanitatis, in which cneoht-
wesendum is perhaps a substantive. Cf. further Widsift 39 ;
Beow. 46, 372, 535, 1187.]

6. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
adverb (2) :—

NSM. (1) :— 38. 1 : Da ... he ealle iSa witu . . . geSyldelice
and gefeonde for Drihtne abser and arsefnde = 20. 1 : Qui . . .
patienter ha3C pro Domino immo gaudenter ferebat. [Per-
haps it is better to consider gefeonde here as a pure adverb.]

160 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

NPM. (1) :— 310. 30 : Das we seondon arfsestlice fyligende
<fe rihtwuldriende = 239. 23 : Hos itaque sequentes nos pie
atque orthodoxe. [Pure adverb? Cf. 310. 25: we wseron
smeagende rehtne geleafan & rehtwuldriende = 239. 1 7 : fidem
rectara & orthodoxam exposuimus, where rehtwuldriende is an
adjective.]

7. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
future infinitive (2) : —

NPM. (2):— 266. 32a&b : setter seofou dagum heo eft hweor-
fende & cumende me gehehton ; y me ftonne mid him Isedan
woldon = 209. 34 : se redituros, ac me secum adducturos
esse promiserunt.

8. An A.-S. appositive participle has no Latin correspond-
ence (3) :—

NSM. (1): — 464. 16: gefeonde $a heofonlican rico gestah
& gesohte = 330. 1 : no Latin correspondent.

NPM. (1):— 100. 12: f)a ondetton eac Brettas scomiende
$a3t heo ongeton = 82. 14: Turn Brettones confitentur quidem
intellexisse se.

ASM. (1) : — 214. 32 : $a gegreopon -Sa unclaBnan gastas
senne of ftam monnum fte heo in fcsem fyre bserndon and
ftrseston y wurpon swa beornendne on hine & he gehran his
sculdra y his ceacan 3 hine swa forbserndon = 1 66. 26 :
arripientes immundi spiritus unum de eis, quos in ignibus
torrebant, iactaverunt in eum, et contingentes humerum
maxillamque eius incenderunt.

II. WITH AN OBJECT (14).

1. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
appositive participle (14) : —

NSM. (8) : — 378. 25 : he mid Sy msestan gewinne mid his
crycce hine wreftigende ham becom [MS. B. : hine gewreftede
& ham becom] = 278. 15 : maximo cum labore baculo
innitens domum peruenit. Cf. 380. 7 : his leomo mid his
crycce wreftgende eode in cyrican [MS. B. : gewreftede &

THE APPO8ITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 161

eode] = 278. 27 : artus baculo sustentans intranit ecclesiam. —
14. 4 : Dset se ylca cyning biddende . . . biscope onfeng
Aidanura on narnan gehatenne = 131. 4 : Ut . . . rex postu-
lans antistitern . . . acceperit Aidanura. Cf. 10. 12 : andsware
biddende onfeng = 48. 2 : responsa petens acceperit. — 10. 7 :
and swa . . . G. word bodigende on Cent code = 44. 25 : sic
. . . Cantiam praedicaturus intrauerit.— 352. 14: fta3tte . . .
ongan, swa he eft for intingan iSaere godcundan lufan lust-
fulliende 'Sam ecum medura fa3stlice forSlaeste = 264. 12 :
quod . . . iarn causa diuini amoris deledatus praemiis inde-
fessus agebat. — 450. 20 : mid $y he wses godre gleatmesse
cniht 3 he iSa yldo mid iSeawum oferstigende [MS. B. : waes
oferstigende] & he swa gemetfsestlice & swa ymbsceawiendlice
hine sylfne on eallum -Singum beheold ^set = 322. 27 : atque
aetatem moribus transienSj ita . . . gereret ut (or pred. ?). —
16. 8 : Da3t se . . . b. onfonde . . . sume stowe mynster on to
timbrianne, & 3a mid halgum gebedum & fasten um Drihtne
gehalgode = 174. 22 : Ut idem episcopus locum . . . accipiens
. . . Domino consecraverit.

NPM. (3) :— 3J2. 23a&b : we wuldriaS usserne D. swa swa
•Sas wuldredon . . . noht tocetecende o^e onweg ateonde =
240. 18a&b: glorificamus D. sicut . . . nihil addentes uel sub-
trahentes. — 312. 25 : $a $e heo onfengon we eac swelce onfoft
. . . wuldriende God Feeder, etc. = 240. 20 : suscepimus,
glorificantes Deurn, etc.

GSN. (1) : — 426. 30 : gehled & ceahetunge swa swa unge-
laeredes folces & biosmriendes gehseftum heora feoudum =
306. 10: cachinum crepitantem quasi uulgi indocti captis
hostibus insultantis.

APM. (2) :— 54. 31 : sende munecas mid hine Drihten
ondredende = 42. 2 1 : misit monachos timentes Dominum. —
358. 10 : Ac forSon fte he ne wolde $y a3rran geare gehyran
ftone arwyr-San faeder Ecgberht, -SaBt he Sceottas hine noht
sceftftende ne afuhte = 267. 7 : sed qnoniam noluerat audire
E., ne Scottiam nil se ledentem impugnaret.

162 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

Note. — In Bede l 430. 18 (in iSsere ic eac swylce fta swetestan
stsefne geherde Godes lof singendra = 307. 31 : in qua etiam
uocem cantantium dulcissimara audiui) we have a substantiv-
ized participle with an object.

B. — THE PRETERITE PARTICIPLE (73).

I. WITHOUT OBJECT (60).

1. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
appositive participle (47) : —

NSM. (14): — 318. 1 : ftset . . . lichoma bebyrged brosnian
ne meahte = 243. 24 : sepulta caro corrumpi non potuit. —
Other examples: — 400. 25: bewrigen = 290. 15: obtedus ;
396. 20 : /ordered = 288. 9: defundus ; 442. 22: ge-ead-
moded=3l4. 10 : humiliatus; 8. 23a : gehcefd [MS. B. : wses
gehsefd] = 37. 5 : detentus; 442. 23 : gentiSerad = 314. 12 :
damnatus ;—geseted = positus, 20. 27 = 268. 20 & 444. 5 =
314. 21 ; 10. 10 : geworden = 48. 1 : foetus; 260. 7 : haten
= 205. 28: iussus; 278. 18b : ib. = 216. 16b: invitatus ;
92. 17: oferswifted = 71. 23: uictus ; 352. 13; onbryrded
= 264. 11: conpunctus; 278. 18a : onfongen = 216. 16*:
susceptus.

NSF. (4):— 330. 30: heo of eorSan alceded leorde $y
fifteogeiSan dsege = 252. 20 : de terris ablata transiuit. — Other
examples: — 340. 16 : afyrhted= 257. 20: perlerrita; 470. 25:
geriht [MS. B. : geriht wses] = 346. 12 : correcta ; 104. 17 :
geseted = 85. 10 : posita.

NSN. (1):— 78. 15: wiif in blodes flownesse geseted =
52. 1 : in fluxu posita; ib. 78. 28 = 56. 5.

NS. M. or N. (1) :— 150. 13 : . . . msel & cselic . . . gehal-
gad = 126. 9 : calicem . . . conseeratum.

NS. N. or F. (1):— 262. 22: wsel & moncwild gesended
= 207. 21 : clades missa.

NPM. (7) : — 164. 7 : oSSset heo styccemaelum aofedde
. . . beboda onfon meahte (MS. Ca. : mihten) = 137. 17:

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 163

donee paulatim enutriti ... ad capienda . . . praecepta suffi-
cerent. — Other examples : — 202. 20 : afyrhte = 159. 21 :
territi; 160. 26: bescorene = 136. 10: adtonsi; 234. 1:
forftferde (MS. Ca. : forfferende) = 176. 30 : morientes ; 8. 5:
genedde = 29. 12: coacti; 58. 24: gewelgade = 45. 33:
praediti; 310. 2 : togotene = 238. 22 : refusi.

NPN. (2) : — 140. 3 : wseron eac gefulwade o$er his beam
of A. iSaere cwene acende =114. 25 : Baptizati sunt alii
liberi eius de A. progeniti. — 1 82. 23 : wses geworden ftsette
"Saere seolfan neahte fta brohton (MS. B. : gebrohtan) ban ute
awunedon = 148. 17 : factum est ut . . . reliquiae adlatae
foris permanerent (may be attrib.).

DSF. (1) : — 320. 7 : cwomon heo to sumre ceastre gehro-
renre noht feor Sonon = 245. 1 : uenerunt ad ciuitatulam
quondam desolatam, non procul inde sitam.

DSN. (1) : — 338. 32 : in o$rum mynstre fyrr gesettum =
257. 2 : in alio longius posito monasterio.

ASM. (8):— 312. 27a : we eac swelce onfoft, wuldriende
God Feeder & his Sunu ftone acennedan of Feeder acennedne
ser worulde = 240. 21 : ... glorificantes Deum & filium
eius unigenitum ex Patre generalum. — Other examples : —
288. 12: bewundenne = 222. 14: inuolutum; 380. 24: for&-
feredne = 279. 14: defunctum ; 22. 16b : gebrysedne = 289.
4b: contritum; 88.15: gebundmne = 61. 23: ligatum; 246.
7: gelceredne = 194. 28 : instruction ; 94. 14 : genumen (MS.
B. : genumenne) = 79. 9 : sumtum; 130. 33 : gesetum (MS. B. :
gesettan) = 110. 9 : positum.

ASF. (3):— 58. 25a4b: Bseron . . . anlicnesse Drihtnes
Hselendes on brede ofcegde and awritene = 46. 2 : ferentes
. . . imaginem ... in tabula depictam ; 484. 28 : ge&ydde =
359. 29 : adiedum.

ASN. (3):— 122. 12: Heafde he ... twiecge handseax
gecettred ^99. 3 : qui habebat sicam bicipitem toxicatam. —
Other examples: — 106. 7: gehalgod = 86. 12: dedicatum ;
314. 14 : priuilegium of ^asre apostolican aldorlicnesse getry-
mede (MS. Ca. : getrymed) = 241. 14 : ... epistulam priuilegii

164 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

ex auctoritate apostolica firmatam (getrymede due to close
following of firmatam ?).

APM. (1) :— 296. 7 : Geseah he ... $ry wsepnedmen to
him cuman mid beorhtum hraeglum gegyrede = 226. 21 :
Uidit enim . . . tres ad se uenisse uiros claro indutos habitu.

2. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
predicative participle (1) : —

NSN. (1): — 272. 6: Is ofer his byrgenne stowe treowge-
weorc on gelicnesse medmicles buses geworht, mid hraegle
gegyrwed = 212. 17: Est autem locus idem sepulcri tumba
lignea in modum domunculi facta co-opertus.

3. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
adjective (3) : —

NSM. (3):— 342. 4a&b: In ... mynstre wses sum broftor
syndriglice mid godcundre gife gemcered y geweorftad =
258. 28 : In m. fuit frater quidam diuina gratia specialiter
insignis; 88. 25 : geneded = 62. 2 : inuitus.

4. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
prepositional phrase (1) : —

NSM. (1) : — 16. 15 : Da?t E. se halga wer of Angelcynnes
cynne acenned munuclif wses Ia3dende on Hibernia =191.
26 : Ut E., uir sanctus de natione Anglorum, monachicam in
H. uitam duxerit.

5. An A.-S. appositive participle has no Latin corre-
spondence (8) : —

NSM. (5) : — 20. 28 : Dset se wer on ancerlife geseted . . .
gelaedde = 271. 3 : Ut idem in uita auachoretica . . . pro-
duxerit. 76.: 22. 7a=281. 2. [Cf. geseted — positus in
20. 27 = 268. 20, 444. 5 = 314. 21.]— Other examples:—
114. 14 : geswenced & werig [MSS. B. & C. : was] = 92. 17;
258. 28 : haten (< called ') = 205. 15 ; 434. 24 : haten (' called ')
= 310. 6.

ASM. (1): — 14. 5: Daet se ylca cyning biddende . . .
biscope (MS. B. : bysceop) onfeng Aidanum on naman ge-
hatenne=131. 4: Ut idem rex postulans antistitem . . .
acceperit Aidanum. [Cf. 158. 12 : him biscop sendon, Aidan

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 165

wses haten = 131. 15: accepit namque pontificem Aeda-
num.]

APM. (1) : — 328. 7 : -$a stafas mid him awritene hsefde (or
pred. ?) = 250. 28 : no Latin equivalent. [MS. B. omits
awritene. ]

APN. (1) : — 108. 17 : $a 'Sing $e -Seer gedemed waeron . . .
wrat and fsestnade ond eft hwearf to B. 3 $a mid hine on
Ongolciricum to healdenne awriten brohte — 88. 22 (or
pred.?).

II. WITH AN OBJECT (13).

1. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
appositive participle (12): —

NSM. (3): — 214. 11: eft onlysed $y lichoman byrneft
= 166. 4: ita solutus corpore ardebit. — Other examples: —
478. 1 : eldofornumen = 349. 29 : consumtus aetate; 440. 20:
witum underfteoded = 313. 3 : pa^nis subditus.

NSF. (1) :— 332. 16 : ForSon *e . . . HereswrS . . . re-
gollicum Seodscipum underfteoded, baad Sone ecan sige =
253. 10 : Nam H. . . . regularibus subdita disci plinis ex-
pectabat.

GSF. (1):— 172. 26: Bisse faminan Gode gehalgodre
monige weorc . . . gewuniaiS . . . sa3gd beon = 143. 1 : Huius
autem uirginis Deo dicatae solent, etc.

GPF. (1):— 284. 32: in Sara ftemnena mynstre Gode
gehalgodra = 220. 26 : in uirginum Deo dedicatarum cella.

DSM. (1) : — 16. 12 : Se cyning for -Sam sige sealdan him
. . . sealde, etc. = 129. 11 : pro adepta uictoria . . . dederit.

DPF. (1) :— 14. 15 : be E. and A. Gode gehalgedum
fsemnum = 142. 2 : de E. and JE., saeratis Deo uirginibus.

DPN. (1): — 24. 22: mid him -Sam underfteoddum myn-
strum = 346. 14 : cum subiectis sibi monasteriis (or atttrib. ?).

ASF. (1) :— 232. 2 : ne Sonne nemne medmicel dsel hlafes
and an henne a3g mid litle meolc wa3tre gemengede he onfeng
= 175. 30 : cum paruo lacte aqua mixto percipiebat.

ASN. (1): — 344. 28: $y betstan leoiSe geglenged him asong

166 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

and ageaf, Sset him beboden WSBS = 260. 24 : optirao carmine,
quod iubebatur, conpositum reddidit.

APN. (1):— 212. 23: Geseah he eac feower fyr onaeled
on "Ssere lyfte noht micle fsece betweoh him tosceaden =
165. 20: . . . quatuor ignes . . . non multo . . . spatio
distantes.

2. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
gerundive (1) : —

NSF. (1) :— 236. 29 : Da code seo . . . dohtor . . . Gode
gehalgod in Sset mynster = 179. 1 : Intrauit filia Deo dedi-
canda monasterium.

BOETHIUS1 (27).
A.— THE PRESENT PARTICIPLE (17).

I. WITHOUT AN OBJECT (17).

1. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
appositive participle (2) : —

NSM. (1) : — 14. 16 : se broc, Seah he swife of his rihtryne,
•Sonne1 ftser micel stan wealwiende of Sain heohan munte
oninnan fealS & hine todselS & him his rihtrynes wiftstent =
23. 16 : Quique uagatur montibus altis defluus amnis, ssepe
resisiit rupe soluti obice saxi.

NSF. (1) :— 81. 27 : Swa $u gesceope $a saule $set hio
sceolde ealne weg hwearfian on hire selfre, swa swa call ftes
rodor hwerfS, oft^e swa swa hweol onhwerfS, smeagende ymb
hire sceoppend o$$e ymbe hi selfe = 71. 13: Tu triplicis
mediam naturae cuncta moventem conectens animam per
consona membra resoluis. Quae cum secta duos motum
glomerauit in orbes? in semet reditura meat mentemque
profundam circuit et simili conuertit imagine caelum.

2. The A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
finite verb, which verb is in immediate connection with an
appositive participle (1) : —

1 1 have expanded the contractions of this text.

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 167

•

NPM. (1) : — 108. 14: irnaft hidres ftidres dwoligende under
•$aem hrofe eallra gesceafta = 93. 78 : sed circa ipsarn rerum
summam uerticemque deficiunt Dec in eo miseris contingit
effectus quod solum dies noctesque moliuntur.

3. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
substantive in the ablative (2) : —

NSM. (2) :— 8. 81*2 : wepende & gisciende = 3. 2 : fletibus.

4. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds loosely to a
Latin substantive in the nominative (1) : —

NPM. (1) :— 74. 31 : dwoliende = 67. 9 : error etc.

5. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
adjective (2) : —

NSM. (2): — 8. 15: geomriende asungen h^fde = 4. 2:
querimoniam lacrimabilem ; 8. 6 : ic sceal nu heofiende singan
= 3. 1 : flebilis.

6. The A.-S. appositive participle has no Latin corre-
spondence (9) : —

NSM. (9) : — 3. 7 : Hu B. hine singende gebsed ; singende
cwaeS : 9. 29, 46. 2, 48. 22, 60. 27, 71. 4, 8. 5 (singend— ),
73. 22 (singinde — ); 17. 14: sorgiende anforlete.

II. WITH AN OBJECT (0).
No example.

B. — THE PRETERITE PARTICIPLE (10).

I. WITHOUT AN OBJECT (10).

1. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
appositive participle (3) : —

GPM. and N. (2):— 11. 27, 281 : Ne me na ne lyst mid
glase geworhtra (or attrib. ?) waga ne heahsetla mid golde &
mid gimmum gerenodra = 19. 21 : ... comptos ebore ac uitro
parietes.

ASN. (1):— 133. 22: God seleS aeg«er ge good ge yfel
gemenged= 112. 140: mixta.

168

2. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
absolute participle (1) : —

NS. F. or N. (1) :— 91. 8 : wuht . . . $e ungened lyste
forweorSan = 78. 45 : nullis cogentibus.

3. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
finite verb (1) : —

NSM. (1) : — 46. 27 : se nama mid feaum stafum awriten
= 47. 17: signat nomen literis.

4. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
adjective (1) : —

NP. F. or N . (1) : — 100. 22 : gesceafta hiora agnum willum
ungenedde him wseren underSiodde = 83. 47 : uoluntaria
sponte.

5. An A.-S. appositive participle has no Latin corre-
spondence (4) : —

NSN. (1):— 131. 27: gemenged = 111. 96 (cf. 133. 22:
gemenged= 112. 140: mixta).

NPM. (2) :— 30. 25, 26 : Sonne sint hi «e pliolicran &
geswincfulran hcefd $onne ncefd.

GPF. (1) :— 11. 28 : boca mid golde awritenra = 19. 21 (an
ap. ptc. occurs in the Latin of this sentence, but not correspond-
ing to awritenra).

II. WITH AN OBJECT (0).
No example.

GREGORY1 (82).
A. — THE PRESENT PARTICIPLE (58).

I. WITHOUT AN OBJECT. (56).

1. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
appositive participle (9) : —

NSM. (2) :— 261. 11 : Se ilca suigende getfafode swingellan
= 1 96b * : tacitus flagella toleravit ; 225. 22 ; Keahtigende =
170b: retractantes.

1 In this text a refers to the top and b to the bottom of the page.

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 169

NSN. (1) : — 431. 18 : Swa brS Ksst mod slcepende gewundad
swa hit ne gefret, Sonne etc. = 356a : Mens quippe a cura
suae sollicitudinis dormiens verberatur et non dolet, quia etc.

NPM. (3) :— 405. 31 : Ac «a hie wendon hiera baec to him,
•Sa hi ofermodgiende his gebod forhogdon = 326a : superbiens
ejus jussa contemsit. — Other examples: — 259. 19: suigende
— 196a: taciti; 171. 9: Kurhwuniende = 126a: inhaerentes.

DSM. (2) :— 93. 9 : Hit is gecueden -Sset se sacerd scolde
sweltan, gif se sweg nsere of him gehiered ge inngongendum
ge utgongendum = 62b : Sacerdos narnque ingrediens vel egre-
diens moritur, se de eo sonitus non auditur.

ASM. (1):— 399. 14: Sio Segor gehselde Loth fleondne =
318a: Segor civitas, quae fugientem salvet infirmum.

Note. — In 159. 18 (ftaBt hi ftonne gehieran ftreagende of
•$ses lariowes mufte hu micle byrSenne hie habbaiS on hiera
scyldum = 116a: ut cum culpa ab auctore non cognoscitur,
quanti sit ponderis, ab inerepantis ore sentiatur) ftreagende, as
Cosijn suggests (vol. 2, p. 97), is doubtless used adverbially.
We should expect the genitive, ftreagendes, to agree with
lariowes. Compare the use of ftreatigende in 315. 23, etc.

2. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
finite verb, which finite verb either is subordinate or is in
immediate connection with an appositive participle that has
been turned into an A.-S.- finite verb (6) : —

NSM. (5) : — 93. 6 : Hit is awriten iSset he scolde inn-
gongende & utgongende beforan Gode to "Sam halignessum
beon gehiered his sueg, ftylses he swulte = 62b : Scriptum
quippe est : " Ut audiatur sonitus, quando ingreditur et egre-
ditur sanctuarium in conspectu Domini, et non moriatur." —
151. 24: he hit him $eah suigende gesa3de = 110a: et hoc
ipsum tamen, quia tacuerit, dixit. [Just before this, however,
occurs tacens et quasi non videos]. — 369. 4 : siofigende cwa3~S
= 286a : queritur dicens. — 315. 23 : ftreatigende cweeft =
244a : redarguit dicens.

NPM. (I): — 215. 7: unwillende= 162a: quae non appe-
tunl.

170

3. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
gerund in the ablative (18) : —

NSM. (13):— 101. 14: & eft hine selfne ofdune astig-
gende he cufte geraetgian his hieremo[n]num = 70a : quia
noverat eumdem se auditoribus condescendendo temperare. —
379. 19 : ftsette he eac cigende & Icerende oft re ftider tio &
laftige ftider he getogen bift = 294b : Ut . . . illuc etiam
clamando alios quo ipse rapitur trahat. — Other examples : —
27. 21 : geftafiende = 8a : permittendo ; 127. 6: oliceende =
88b: demulcendo; 49. 20 and 81. 10: sprecende = 26b and
54a : loquendo; 123. 21 : stirende = 86a : corrigenda; 127. 7 :
Krealigende = 88b : terrendo ; 383. 8 : ib. = 298a : incre-
pando; 295. 12 and 297. 15 : wandigende = 222b and 224b :
parcendo ; 81. 11 : wyrcende= 54a : ostendendo.

NSN. (1) :— 433. 6 : ftset is «»t hit [= mod] fta gedonan
unSeawas swincende gebete, & fta ungedonan foreftoncelice
becierre = 358a : ut et praesentia laborando subjiciat, et
contra futura certamina prospiciendo convalescat.

NPM. (4):— 439. 15: -Sset hi ongiten feattende 3a3t hie
ser hiora agnes Nonces ne stodon = 364b : et cadendo discunt
non fuisse proprium quod steterunt. — Other examples : — 91.
22 : hlydende = 62a : clamando ; 345. 22 : ofermodgiende =
266b : superbiendo ; 101. 21: upsceawiende = 70a : contem-
plando.

4. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
gerund in the genitive (1) : —

NPM. (1):— 191. 4: flat hie wel libben[de] gode bisene
astellen 'Seem fte him underSiedde sien = 142a : discant . . .
isti quomodo etiam commissis sibi exempla bene vivendi
exterius praebeant

5. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
prepositional phrase (7) : —

NSM. (4) :— 397. 27, 28 : Ne cwe$o ic no «»t *»t ic ser
cwse-S bebeodende, ac Icerende & geftafigende = 316a : Hoc
autem dico secundum indulgentiam uou secundum imperium;
253. 6 : geomriende = 192a : in dolore.

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 171

NSN. (1) :— 417. 11 : geftafigende = 338b : ex deliberation.

NPM. (2) : — 415. 6 : Wuton cuman ssr his dome andet-
tende (or pred. ?) = 336* : Praeveniamus faciem Domini in
confessione; 123. 16 : weaxcende = 286*: ad interitum.

6. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
substantive in the ablative of manner or of means (6) : —

NSM. (4): — 415. 18: & he "Sa hi swa unrote oleccende
to him geloccode = 336b : tristemque blanditiis delinivit. —
Other examples: — 53. 16: egesiende = 30*: terroribus ; 53.
16 : hiertende = 30* : favoribus ; 379. 23 : hreowsigende =
294b : rnagna voce pcenitentiae.

NPM. (2) : — 185. 7 : is cynn -Ssette we for hira modes haelo
olicende hi on smyltnesse gebringen mid ure sprsece = 138* :
dignum est, ut ad salutem mentis quasi dulcedine citharae
locutionis nostrae tranquilitate revocetur; 117. 17: suigende
= 82* : tacita cogitatione.

7. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
adverb (1) : —

NPM. (1) :— 381. 25 : ... Godes Segnas, $a «e unwandi-
ende ftara scyldegena gyltas ofslogen = 296b : qui delinquen-
tium scelera incunctanter ferirent (or pure adverb ?).

8. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
infinitive (3) : —

NSM. (2):— 403. 6: ForSsem se «e nine selfne maran
godes behset, & 3onne forlset fta maran god, & went hine to
•Ssem Isessum, ftonne bi$ hit swutol "Sset he br3 fromlodende
oferswi"Sed = 322* : lui igitur fortiori studio intenderat, retro
convincitur respicere, si relictis amplioribus bonis adminima
retorquetur. — 61. 3 : Se laece br3 micles to beald & to scorn-
leas $e gse$ sefter o^ra monna husum Iceenigende (or pred.?),
& hsefS on his agnum nebbe opene wunde unlacnode = 36* :
Si ergo adhuc in ejus opere passiones vivunt, qua piTesumtione
percussum mederi proprat, qui in facie vulnus portat ?

NPM. (1) : — 297. 4 : Sua, Sonne ^onne hatheortan hie
mid nane fore^Sonce nyllaiS gestillan, ac sua wedende folgiaiS
hwam sua sua Assael dyde .ZEfnere, & nsefre nylla'S gesuican,

172 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

•Sonne is micel ftearf etc. = 224a : Sed cum iracundi nulla
consideratione se mitigant, et quasi Asael persequi et insanire

non cessant ; necesse est etc.

9. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
substantive in the nominative (1) : —

NSM. (1):— 207. 22: ForSsem he sprsec $as word $e he
wolde iSara scamleasna scylda tcelende geopenian = 156a: ut
et illorum culpas increpatio dura detegeret.

10. An A.-S. appositive participle has no Latin corre-
spondence (3) : —

NSM. (3) : — 185. 9 : aBresft mon sceal sprecan asciende. —
153. 5 : Ac ftonne se lareow ieldende secS ftone timan etc. —
39. 16 : suigende he cwseft.

II. WITH AN OBJECT (2).

1. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
appositive participle (1) : —

NSM. (1) :— 99. 4 : & SaBtte hie [Cotton MS. : he] sua hea-
licra'Singa wilnigende ne forsio his niehstan untrume & scyldige
= 68a : ne aut alia petens proximorum infirma despiciat.

2. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
gerund in the ablative (1) : —

NPM. (1):— 171. 13: Da3t is Sonne &3et mon $a earce
bere on $a3m saglum, -&ette "Sa godan lareowas "Sa halgan
gesomnunge Icerende -Sa niwan & ^a ungeleaffullan mod mid
hire lare gelaBde [sic/] to ryhtum geleafan = 126a: Vectibus
quippe arcam portare, est bonis doctoribus sanctam Ecclesiam
ad rudes infidelium mentes praedicando deducere. [Cotton
MS. has beoft lcerende.~\

B.— THE PRETERITE PARTICIPLE (24).

I. WITHOUT AN OBJECT (23).

1. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
appositive participle (11) : —

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 173

NSM. (4) : — 443. 22 : Ac $a he swa gebreged on eorSan
feoll, & acsode, & cwseft etc. = 370.b Nam cum prostratus,
requireret, dicens. — Other examples : — 135. 23 : gehefegad and
ofersuifted — 96b : vidam ; 51 . 1 : undcensod = 26 b : non
purgatm.

NPF. (1): — 153. 1: Ac monige scylda openlice witene
beoS to forberanne = 110a: Nonnulla autem vel aperte cog-
nita, mature toleranda sunt.

NPN. (2) :— 245. 8 : Hwset getacniaS Sonne $a truman
ceastra butan hwurfulu mod, getrymedu and ymbtrymedu mid
lytelicre ladunge? = 184b: Quid enim per civitates munitas
exprimitur, nisi suspectae mentes et fallaci semper defensione
drcumdatae ?

DPM. or N. (1): — 155. 10: iSonne he ongiet be sumum
ftingum oftfte Seawum utanne cetiewdum call $aet hie innan
•Senceaft = 112a : qui discussis quibusdam signis exterius
apparentibus ita corda subditorum penetrat ut etc.

ASM. (2) :— 383. 32 : gif mon on niwne we[a]ll unadru-
godne & unastiftodne micelne hrof & hefigne onsett, ftonne
etc. = 300a : quod structuris recentibus necdum solidatis si
tignorum pondus superponitur etc.

ASN. (1) :— 403. 20 : ««t hi hit huru tobrocen gebeten =
322b : bona . . . saltern scissa resarciant.

2. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
prepositional phrase (2) : —

NPM. (1) :— 227. 25 : «e . . . gefeohtaS & eft innan hira
burgum fseste belocene ^urh hiera giemelieste hie tataft ge-
bindan = 172b: qui victores sunt, scd per negligentiam
postmodum intra urbis daustra capiuntur.

NPF. (1):_407. 30: for&em gif hie ge^encea^ iSara
gessel-Sa ^e him ungeendode sefter 'Seem geswincum becuman
sculon =: 328a : Si enim attendatur felicitas quae sine transitu
attingitur.

3. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
ablative of manner or of cause (1) : —

174 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

NPM. (1) :— 435. 2 : gif hi fterlecor syngoden unbeftohte =
360a : si in his sola prcecipitatione cecidissent.

4. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
dative of cause (1) : —

NPM. (1) :— 109. 23 : Hie sculon for$y ofdroBd[de] . . .
licgean astreahte etc. = 76a : quia videlicet etc. ex ea debent
etiarn formidini jacere substrati.

5. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
adverb (2) :—

NPM. (2): — 117. 23: . . . sua . . . sua we for monnum
orsorglicor ungewitnode syngiaft = 82a : Tanto . . . quanto
apud homines inulte peccamus. — 137. 19: Ungeniedde, mid
eowrum agenum willan, ge sculon ftencean = 98b : non coade,
sed spontanee etc. [Or are both pure adverbs?].

6. An A.-S. appositive participle loosely corresponds to a
Latin substantive in the nominative (2) : —

NPM. (2):— 302. 10: unmidlode and aftundene = 228b :
efrenatio etc.

7. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
adjective (2) : —

NSM. (2) : — 227. 21 : & he -Sonne sua gebunden . . . sargaiS
etc. = 172b: ut plerumque vir patiens . . . captivus crube-
scat; 317. 12: ungeftingod = 244b : repentina (or pure ad-
verb?).

8. An A.-S. appositive participle has no Latin corre-
spondence (2) : —

NPM. (1) : — 105. 1 : . . . clsenran ftonne hie ... wseren,
mid ftsem tearum Sara gebeda aftwcegen.
DPF. (1) :— 343. 8 : sehtum gereafodu\m\.

II. WITH AN OBJECT (1).

1. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
substantive in the accusative (1) : —

ASM. (1):— 197. 20: hit no gedajfenlic nsere "Saet hie
slogon Gode gehalgodne kyning = 148a : fregit eos responsi-

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 175

onibus, quia manum mittere in Christum Domini non deberet
(or attrib. ?).

OROSIUS1 (21).
A.— THE PRESENT PARTICIPLE (16).

I. WITHOUT AN OBJECT (14).

1. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
appositive participle (4) : —

NSM. (2) : — 200. 32 : he him wepende (Saere bene) ge-
tygiSade, for $011 i$e (he) sceolde Italiam forlsetan = 201. 30 :
flens reliquit Italiam ; 240. 9 : wepende mseude $a unare =
241. 8 : deplorans injurias.

NSF. (2) : — 12. 32, 33 : & Sonne foHS Sonan west irnende
heo tolift on twa ymb an igland "Se mon hset Meroen, & ftonan
norS bugende ut on $one Wendelsse = 13. 20, 22 : deinde diu
ad occasuin profluens, faciensque insulam nomine Meroen in
inedio sui : novissime ad septentrionem inflexus . . . plana
JSgypti rigat.

2. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
substantive (2) : —

NSM. or N. (2) :— 166. 17, 18 : fegSer ge he(self) wepende
hamweard for, ge ftset folc ftset him ongean com, eall hit him
wepende hamweard folgade = 167. 8 : ... ad cujus conspec-
tum plangentium junguntur agmina.

3. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
adjective (2) : —

NSM. (2) : — 294. 1 1 : hiene si&San mid rapum be $8em
sweoran up aheng, gelicost "Saem $e he hiene self (ne) unwitende
hsefde awierged = 295. 8 : strangulatus, atque ut voluntariam
sibi conscivisse mortem putaretur, laqueo suspensus est (notice
the mistranslation) ; 40. 18 : fleonde = 41. 16 : profugum.

4. An A.-S. appositive participle has no Latin correspond-
ence (6) :—

176

NSM. (4) :— 178. 24 : searigende ; unwitende: 248. 14, 250.
12 ; 140. 7 : witen.de.

ASM. (1):— 258. 12: slcependne.
APM. (1):— 200. 21 : fleonde.

II. WITH AN OBJECT (2).

1. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
appositive participle (1) : —

NPM. (1) :— 32. 21 : geforan RoSum $set igland, wilniende
•Sset hi selcum gewinne oftflogen haefdon = 33. 19: credentes
quod se . . . abstraherent, Rhodum insulam . . . ceperunt.

2. An A.-S. appositive participle has no Latin corre-
spondence (1) : —

NSM. (1) : — 52. 27 : sona 3a3S folces ftone maBstan dsel
fteonde mid ealle forlaBdde [dcel seems to be the object of
forlcedde as well as of fteonde].

B.— THE PRETERITE PARTICIPLE (5).
I. WITHOUT AN OBJECT (5).

1. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
appositive participle (2) : —

NPF. (1) : — 14. 18 : 3a3s landes is xliii [sic] Seoda, wide
tosetene for unwaBstmbsernesse $a3S londes = 15. 20 : gentes
sunt quadraginta duae, propter terrarum infaBcundam diffu-
sionem late oberrantes.

ASN. (1): — 168. 14: swa he hit him eft ham bebead on
anum brede awriten etc. = 169. 10 : . . . per tabellas scriptas
etc.

2. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
prepositional phrase (1) : —

DPF. & M. (1) :— 88. 13 : ^fter 3a3m wa3S an ger full
iSset ofer call Romana rice seo eor^Se waBS cwaciende & berstende
& sdlce daBge mon com unarimedlice oft to ($a3m) senatum, &

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 177

him ssedon from burgum & from tunum on eorSan besuncen =
89. 10 : Per totum fere annum tarn crebri, tamque etiam
graves in Italia terrae-motus fuerunt, ut de innumeris quassa-
tionibus ac ruinis villarum oppidorumqne assiduis Roma
nuntiis fatigaretur.

3. An A.-S. appositivc participle has no Latin corres-
pondence (2) : —

NPM. (2):— 92. 30: bewopene; 250. 14: ungeniedde.

II. WITH AN OBJECT (0).
No example.

PSALMS, THORPE (24).
A.— THE PRESENT PARTICIPLE (20).

I. WITHOUT AN OBJECT (7).

1. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
appositive participle (1) : —

NSM. (1) : — 17. 3 : herigende ic clypige to $e, Drihten =
laudans invocabo Dominum.

2. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
prepositional phrase (1) : —

NSM. (1) : — 50 Int. (= Introduction) : hreowsiende =
Bruce 93 : Sub occasione pcenitentiae.

3. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
gerund in the genitive (2) : —

NSM. (2): — 34 Int.1*2: ma witgiende, ftonne wyrgende
o&Se wilniende = Bruce 86 : non malevolentia optandi, sed
praescientia prophetandi.

4. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
substantive in the ablative (1) : —

NSM. (1) : — 34 Int.3 : wyrgende = Bruce 86 : malevolentia.

5. An A.-S. appositive participle has no Latin corre-
spondence (2) : —

NSM. (2) :— 30 Int. : gebiddende to ; 5. 7 : hopiende to.

178

MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

II. WITH AN OBJECT (13).

1. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
absolute clause (1) : —

NSM. (1) :— 38 Int. '.—seofigende = Bruce 87 : Angentibus
. . . moeroribus.

2. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
adverbial phrase (1) : —

NSM. (1) : — 34 Int. : siofigende = Bruce 85 : Occasione
cerumnarum suarum.

3. An A.-S. appositive participle has no Latin equiva-
lent (11) :—

NSM. (11):— 37 Int.: andettende; 28 Int.: bebeodende;
33 Int. : gehatende ; 39 Int. : gylpende ; 32 Int. : herigende
(cf. 17. 3, where herigende = laudans) • 47 Int. : mydiende;
37 Int. : seofigende, ib. 43 Int. ; 32 Int. : Kanciende, ib. 45
Int. ; 31 Int. : wundriende.

B. — THE PRETERITE PARTICIPLE (4).

I. WITHOUT AN OBJECT (4).

1. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
appositive participle (2) : —

APF. (2) : — 44. 15 : beslepte and gegyrede = circumamicta.

2. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
prepositional phrase (1) : —

ASN. (1) :— 20. 3 : astcened = de lapide.

3. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
adjective (1) : —

DSN. (1) :— 41 Int. : folce gehceftum etc. = Bruce 89 : po-
pulus captivus etc.

II. WITH AN OBJECT (0).

No example.

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 179

THE CHRONICLE* (46).
A. — THE PRESENT PARTICIPLE (13).

I. WITHOUT AN OBJECT (9).

NSM. (2):— 1097 Ea&b (p. 233b) : Da uppon sancte
Michaeles msessan iiii°N° October setywde an selcirS steorra
on aefen scynende & sona to setle gangende (or pred. ?).

NPM. (7):— 1069Da-b'° (p. 204m) : & heom com Sser
togenes Eadgar cild & WaldSeof eorl & Meerleswegen &
Gospatric eorl mid NorSymbrum & ealle $a land leoden
ridende & gangende (or both pred. ?) mid unmaetan here
swrSe fcegengende & swa ealle anrsedlice to Eoferwic foron. —
1075 Da>b (p. 210m) : ac he sylf & his ferestan menn ferdon
eft ongean to Scotlande, sume hreowlice on fotan gangende &
sume earmlice ridende (or both pred.?). — 1123 E (p. 251*) :
<fe riden ftser sprecende (or pred. ?). Da aseh dune se biscop
etc. — 1086 Ea (p. 21 8b) : & twegen halige menn $e hyrsu-
medon Gode on ancersettle wuniende iSaer wseron forbearnde.

II. WITH AN OBJECT (4).

NSM. (1) :— 1087 E (p. 223m) : Das Sing geseonde se
arwurSa biscop Wlstan wearS swrSe gedrefed on his mode.

NPM. (1) : — 1083 E : & sume crupon under & gyrne
cleopedon to Gode, his miltse biddende.

ASN. (2) :— 656 Eb (p. 33*) : seo papa seonde $a his writ,
$us cwceftend: Ic Uitalianus papa etc. — Cf. 675 E (p. 35b) :
And seo papa seonde Sa his ge write to Englalande, "3 us
cweftende.

Note: Latin Participles in The Chronicle. — Several instances
of a Latin appositive participle occur in the Chronicle but are
not translated into A. -S. : 431 E : apparens; 625 E : constans.

*The superior letters outside the parenthesis distinguish the several
examples of the same year ; those inside the parenthesis are explained by
Plummer.

180 MORGAN CALL AW AY, JR.

B.— THE PRETERITE PARTICIPLE (33).

1. WITHOUT AN OBJECT (33).

NSM. (12):— 1104 E (p. 239*): on ftam Tiwsesdsege ftser
sefter eetywdan feower circulas to 'Sam middaege onbutan
ftsere sunnan hwites hiwes, selc under oft ran gebroiden
swylce hi gemette waeron. — 50 F : Her Paulas gebunden
wearft gesend to Rome (or pred. ?). — 755 F : & Sibertes
brofter, Cynehard gehaten, ofsloh Cynewulf on Merantune.
So : 604 A (or pred. ?), 777 E, 1 130 E.— Other examples :—
1118 E and 1127 Eb : gewundod ; 1154 E: luued (or post-
positive attrib.?); 3 A: ofsticod; 1086 Eb: ungederad (or
pred. ?) ; 1048 E : unswican (or pred. ?).

NSN. (1):— 1127Ea (p. 256b): ftser wa3s se Scotte kyng
Dauid & call fta heaued leered & Iseuued ftaBt wses on Engle-
land. [May be considered plural as by Plummer.]

NPM. (15):— 1066 Da-b'° (p. 199m) : fta Engliscan hi
hindan hetelice slogon oft ftaat hig sume to scype coman,
sume adruncen & sume eacforbcernde & swa misliceforfarene,
fteet ftser wses lyt to lafe. — Other examples : — gehadode :
995 F, 1012 E, 1095 E, 1102 E; 449 A : geleaftade; 1083
Ea : gewepnede (or pred. ?) ; hadode : 1014 E, 1023 D, 1046 E
(manig mann ftaBrto ge hadode ge laewede) ; 1096 E : hunger-
bitene; 911 A: unbefohtenene (or pred.?); 1070 E : wep-
node.

GSM. (1) :— 1100 E (p. 235b) : aalces mannes gehadodes &
Isewedes.

GPM. (1) :— 656 Ea (p. 29b): be his broftre r«d . . . & be
al his gewiten reed, leered & lawed, fte on his kynerice wseron.

DSM. (1):— 1053 Cc: se Wulfwi feng to ftam biscoprice
fte Ulf ha3fde be him libbendum & ofadrcefdum.

ASN. (2) : — 992 Ea&b : & fta3t scip genamon call gewcepnod
& gewcedod.

II. WITH AN OBJECT (0).
No example.

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 181

Note. — As the examples show, in many instances the parti-
ciples (both present and preterite) above cited from the
Chronicle are in immediate juxtaposition with intransitive
verbs like cetiewan and faran ; hence even more examples
than those queried may be predicative rather than appositive.

THE LAWS (19).
A. — THE PRESENT PARTICIPLE (4).

I. WITHOUT AN OBJECT (3).

ASM. (1) :— Ine, c. 35 : Se «e Seof slihiS, he mot a$e ge-
cySau, Sset he hine fleondne for iSeof sloge.

ASN. (2):— Cnut n., c. 24, Int.a&b: nan Singe . . . ne
libbende ne licgende.

Note: Accusative Compounds. — Three accusative-compound
participles occur in the Laws : — Ine, c. 45 : Burg-bryce mon
sceal betan . . . gesiftcundes monnes landhcebbendes xxxv ;
and Ine, c. 51a&b: Gif gesrScund mon landagende forsitte
fierd, geselle cxx scill. and ftolie his landes ; unlandagende
Ix scill. As the examples show, however, the participles are
used attributively rather than appositively.

II. WITH AN OBJECT (1).

NSM. (1) : — Wihtrsed, c. 18: Preost hine clsensie sylfa3S
soiSe, in his halgum hraegle setforan wiofode, $us cweftende :
" Ueritatem dico Christo, non mentior."

B. — THE PRETERITE PARTICIPLE (15).
I. WITHOUT AN OBJECT (15).

NSM. (1):— Ine, c. 39: Gif hwa fare unaliefed fram his
hlaforde (MS. B. has unalyfede, which is perhaps a pure
adverb).

182 MORGAN CALL AWAY, JR.

NSN. (2) :— Cnut n., c. 71, § 4a&b : twa hors, I. gesadelod
and o$er ungesadelod.

NPM. (2) : — ^Ethelred vii., Appendix, § 7 : ealle . . . ge-
hadode and Isewede ; Wihtrsed, c. 4 : ungestrodyne.

NPN. (4) : — Cnut n., c. 71, Introduction : ftaet syndon
Vin. hors, iv. gesadelode & iv. unsadelode. — So gesadelode
and unsadelode in Cnut n., c. 71, § la&b.

GPM. (1) : — Eadmund n., Introduction : mid minra witena
geiSeahte, ge hadedra ge Isewedra.

DSM. (2): — Ine, c. 18, title: Be cirliscum fteofe gefonge-
num ; Ine, c. 20, title : Be feorran cumenum men butan wege
gemetton [MS. H. : gemettum].

DSN. (2) :— Alfred, c. 10, title : Be twelfhyndes monnes
wife forlegenum ; JElfred, c. 9, title : Be bearneacnum wife
qfslcegenum [MS. B : Be -Sam ftaet man ofslea wif mid cilde].

ASM (1) :— Alfred, c. 35, § 4: Gif he hine to preoste
bescire unbundenne.

II. WITH AN OBJECT (0).
No example.

BENEDICT1 (72).
A.— THE PRESENT PARTICIPLE (63).

I. WITHOUT AN OBJECT (25).

1. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
appositive participle (12) :—

NSM. (3) :— 2. 18 : and $us acsiende cwy$ = 4. 21 : Et
quaerens Dominus . . . iterum dicit. — Other examples : —
47. 16: amende =88. 17: surgentes ; 52. 9: wuniende mid
upahefednesse = 98. 2 : elatus.

NPM. (9) : — 47. 12 : hy butan elcunge arisende caflice
gehwylc ofterne forestseppe and to "Sam Godes weorce efste =
88. 13 : absque mora surgentes festinent. — Other examples : —

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 183

62. 15b: drincende=H8. 2: bibentibus ; 62. 15a: etende =
118. 1: comedentibus ; 134. 17*: libbende = 231. 8: victi-
tantes; 135. 23b*: sittende = 231. 36: sedentes ; 138. 2*:
fturhwuniende = 233. 22 : persistentes ; wuniende (/ram) =
remoto', 134. 18* = 231. 11 ; = stantes, 135. 23a* = 231. 35 ;
137. 14* : wyrcende = 233. 6 : operantes.

2. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
finite verb, which finite verb is usually subordinate or in
immediate connection with an appositive participle (3) : —

NSM. (2):— 133. 13: Swa hwylc swa onettende efst to
$am heofonlican eftle, gefreme serest = 206. 11: Quisquis
ergo ad patriam ccelestem festinas . . . perfice ; 68. 14 : hreou-
sigende = 128. 20 : pceniteat.

NPM. (1): — 68. 21: wen is, 3a3t sume oftSe sleaclice
lagon and slepon, oSiSe sittende mid idelre spellunge deofle to
micelne forwyrdes intingan gesealden = 130. 4: erit forte
talis qui se aut recollocet et dormiat, aut certe sedeat sibi
foris, vel fabulis vacet, et detur occasio maligno.

3. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
ablative of manner or of means (1) : —

NSM. (1) : — 71. 7 : butan he Sserrihte beforan eallum hine
dcedbetende geeaiSmede — 134. 15 : nisi satisfactione ibi coram
omnibus humiliatus fuerit.

4. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
adjective (1) : —

NPM. (1) : — 9. 23 : sefre unstaftolfseste and woriende =
16. 9 : semper vagi et numquam stabiles.

5. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
prepositional phrase (1) : —

NPM. (1): — 9. 7: geleorniaft $£et hie anstandonde . . .
ongean deofol . . . winnan magan = 14. 4 : et beni instruct!
« . . jam sine consolations alterius . . . contra vitia pugnare
sufficiunt.

*A11 starred references are to the Appendix of Benedict1.

184 MORGAN OALI.AWAY, JR.

6. An A.-S. appositive participle has no Latin corre-
spondence (7) : —

NSM. (4) :— 31. 14 : geomrien.de clypude = 58. 13 ; 24. 6 :
smeagende gehealde = 46. 24; 4. 15°: tremegende= 8. 21;
60. 1 : cwefte . . . ftanciende = 112. 3.

NPM. (3) :— 132. 1 : betende = 204. 3 ; 2. 10 : elciende =
4. 15 ; 135. 6 : swindende = 231. 20.

II. WITH AN OBJECT (38).

1. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
appositive participle (25) : —

NSM (11): — 22. 15: wr5 Sone unSeaw nine bewarode se
witega, $us cweftende = 44. 16 : quod se cavere Propheta in-
dicat, dieens. — So cweftende = dicens : 4. 7 = 8. 13 ; 24. 14 =
48. 7. — Other examples : 26. 14 : geefenlcecende = 52. 5 :
imitans ; 4. 15: gefyllende=8. 21: complens ; gehyrende =
audiens, 2. 19 = 4. 25, 15. 6 = 26. 17 ; 30. 3 : healdende —
56. 19: habens ; 27. 2: ne Icetende = 52. 10 : sustinens ; 54.
9: ondrcedende = 100. 14: timens ; 4. 15a : wyrcende=8.
21 : complens.

NSF. (1) : — 2. 9 : sio godcunde stefn myngaft and clypaS,
$us cweftende = 4. 14: divina quotidie claraans quid nos ad-
moneat vox dicens.

NSN. (3) : — 25. 12 : Be 3am halig gewrit monaft, $us ewe-
ftende =' 50. 9 : Unde Scriptura praecipit,^'cens. — So cwefiende
= dicens, 27. 19 = 54. 2, 28. 15 = 54. 14.

NPM. (10) : — 64. 13 : we fteah manna untrumnesse and
tydernesse besceawiende gelyfaS, i$a3t etc. = 122. 5 : Tamen
infirmorum contuentes imbecillitatem, credimus. — Other ex-
amples : 134. 24* : ascyriende = 231. 16 : remoti; 135. 27* :
begytende = 232. 2 : captantes ; 59. 21 : biddende = 112. 2 :
postulantes ; 4.3: clipiende = 8. 10 : dicentes ; 70.7: dypi-
ende = 132. 14 : dicens ; 3. 14 : cweftende = 6. 17 : dicentes ;
11.8: forhogiende = 18. 21 : contemnentes ; 27. 22 : gefyllende
= 54. 5 : adimplentes ; 87. 5 : secgende = 154. 7 : dicens.

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 185

2. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
finite verb, which finite verb generally is subordinate or is in
immediate connection with an appositive participle (7) : —

NSM. (6) :— 25. 10 : dypiende = 50. 3 : dicit ; cweftende =
dicat, 11.6=: 18. 18, 26. 2 = 50. 20 ; ib. = ait, 21. 9 = 42.
8 ; ib. = dicit, 51. 14 = 96. 9 ; ib. = dicant, 82. 24 (Wells
Fragment) = 152. 5.

NSN. (1) :— 22. 10 : dypiende = 44. 12 : elamat.

3. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
prepositional phrase (1) : —

NPM. (1) : — 134. 13* : $e . . . westestowa and setatu and
anwunung gelufiaS geejenlcecende Elian etc. = 231. 6: ad
imitationem scilicet Eliae.

4. An A.-S. appositive participle has no Latin equiva-
lent (5) :—

NSM. (2) :— 4. 10 : dypiende = 8. 16 ; 101. 6 : fcestniende
= 166. 16.

NPM. (3):— 131. 15: awyrpende (MS. F. : awyrpen) =
204. 1; 6. 1: geefenlcecende = 1 2. 2; 138. 8: Kicggende =
233. 27.

B. — THE PRETERITE PARTICIPLE (9).
I. WITHOUT AN OBJECT (8).

1. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
appositive participle (2) : —

NSM. (2):— 2. 3: gegremed = 4. 6: irritatus ; 28. 2 :
geondead = angaritia : 7. 54.

2. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
gerundive (1): —

NSM. (1):— 34. 2: a3fter Sam fylige capitel of Ssera
apostola lare gemyndelice butan bee gesced = 64. 7 : Lectio
sequatur, ex corde recitanda.

3. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
adjective (2) : —

186 MORGAN CALL AW AY, JR.

NPM. (2) : — 44. 22a*b : eala -Sser we asolcene and awacode
on anre wucan gelsesten = 82. 26 : quod nos tepidi utinam
sepiimana Integra persolvamus.

4. An A.-S. appositive participle has no Latin equiva-
lent (3) :—

NSM. (1) :— 28. 6 : geneadod = 54. 9 (cf. 28. 2, where
geneadod = angariati).

NPM. (2):— 11. 16a&b: getrymede and anbryrde= 20. 5.

II. WITH AN OBJECT (1).

1. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
appositive participle (1) : —

DPM. (1) : — 25. 16 : and nu fram -Sam englum us betceh-
tum ure weorc . . . beoft gebodude = 50. 13 : et ab Angelis
nobis deputatis . . . opera nostra nuntiantur.

THE BLICKLING HOMILIES (52).
A. — THE PRESENT PARTICIPLE (36).

I. WITHOUT AN OBJECT (27).

NSM. (10) :— 235. 12 : Ond 3us cweKende se halga Andreas
asette his heafod ofer senne his discipula & he onslep. — Other
examples :— 133. 17 : cumende; 193. 8 : dwolgende ; 249. 20 :
efstende (or pred. ?) ; 113. 29 : gnorngende (by Flamme classed
as pred. (§ 169), by Morris translated as appos.) ; 179. 20:
leogende; lociende: 229. 28, 245. 8a, 245. 16; 231. 9 : Kurh-
wunigende.

NSF. (5): — 5. 8atb: Gehyron we nu to hwylcum gemete
seo arwyrSe fsemne & seo halige, on hire cantice gefeonde and
blissigende, sang & iSus cwae^. — 7.16: ftset Maria . . . smeade
& swigende ftohte hwset seo halettung wsere. • [Flamme (§ 169.
2) classes swigende as pred. ; but Morris correctly translates :
" and silently considered." Swigende may be considered an
adverb.] 249. la * b : hrymende, wepende.

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 187

NSN. (1) : — 199. 17 : Da wees he mid yrre swrSlice onstyred,
forSon iSe hit [= hrytor] swa wedende eode, & swa ofer-
modlice ferde. [Flamme (§ 169) classes wedende as pred. ; but
Morris correctly translates : " because it had gone about so
madly and had behaved so arrogantly." Clearly wedende is
coordinate with ofermodlice, and may like it be classed as an
adverb.]

NPM. (5) :— 225. 17 : cumaS arisende wulfas, todrifaS Sine
heorde.— Other examples : —gefeonde : 201. 10, 203.2 (or
pred. ?), 207. 8 (or pred. ?) ; 239. 27 : ingangende.

NPN. (1): — 243. 5: and ingangende on tot carcern hie
[= $a deoflu] gestodon on gesihfte $033 eadigan Andreas.

DSM. (2) :— 115. 18a : we him fleondum fylgeaS.— 245. 3 :
Dus gebiddende Sam halgan Andrea Drihtnes stefn wses ge-
wordeu on Ebreisc, cweSende.

DPM. (2):— 171. lla&b: swa him Drihten Crist, eallum
rihtgelyfdum mannum wunigendum for his noman, & fturhwu-
niggendum in tintregum on soSre andetnesse oS ende his lifes
untweogendlice, geheht & cwseS.

ASM. (1):_H5. 18b: & hine feallendne lufia«.

II. WITH AN OBJECT (9).

NSM. (4) : — 239. 22 : he gesset be Sam swere anbidende
hwffit him gelimpan scolde (or pred. ?) ; 249. 17a&b: he tor
wunode mid him seofon dagas, Icerende and strangende hira
heortan on geleafan . . . Cristes. — 57. 7 : spiwende.

NSF. (2) :— cweKende : 229. 27, 245. 4.

NPM. (1) :— 133. 27 : Swylce is gecweden tot hie ealle on
yppan wunedon, Sonen bidende tos Halgan Gastes.

NPN. (1) :— 243. 7 : hie [=$a deoflu] gestodon on gesihSe
tos eadigan Andreas, and hine bismriende mid myclere
bismre, and hie cwsedon.

ASM. (1) :—215. 21 : cweftendne.

188

MORGAN CALL A WAY, JR.

B. — THE PRETERITE PARTICIPLE (16).

I. WITHOUT AN OBJECT (15).

NSM. (4):— 89. 34b: ra$e he lifgende ut eode of his
byrgenne mid his agenre mihte aweht. — 87. 36 : & befealden
to Hselendes cneowum he cwseft. — Other examples : — 187.
28 : gebeagod ; 225. 33 : getrymed.

NSF. (1) : — 197. 20 : Donne is $ser on neaweste sum swrSe
msere burh betwih Ssere see seo is nemned Adriaticus on ftsem
munte Garganus geseted se is haten Sepontus.

NPM. (5) : — 85. 9 : Hie 3a swrSe foj-hte & abregde $us
cwsedon.— Other examples:— 221. 28°: gegyrede; 221. 28a :
geseeldode; 221. 28b : gesperode ; 171. 28: geweorftode.

NPF. (1) : — 209. 36 : he geseah $aet on ftsem clife hangodan
on -Ssem is gean bearwum manige sweorte saula be heora
handum gebundne. [Flamme (§ 174. 2) says this wavers
between appos. and pred.]

NPN. (1) : — 127. 33 : Swylce eac syndon on 3a3re my clan
cirican ehta eag'Syrelu swifte mycele of glsese geworht.
[Flamme (§ 173) thinks that geworht is possibly predica-
tive, but Morris translates it as appositive.]

ASM. (2) : — 11. 7 : ArweorSian we Crist on binne asetene;
181. 1 : beheafdodne.

APF. (1):— 31. 20: $as dseda $us gedone from Drihtne
(but the text is corrupt).

II. WITH AN OBJECT (1).

DSF. (1): — 197. 6: se $e is on ealra ymbhwyrfte to
weorftienne & to wuldrienne his ciricean, gehweiSer ge his
agen geweorc ge on his naman gehalgod (but the passage is
corrupt).

Note. — The text is too corrupt to construe ahqfen in
115. 32.

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 189

^ELFRIC'S HOMILIES/ THORPE (676).
A.— THE PRESENT PARTICIPLE (477).

I. WITHOUT AN OBJECT (203).

NSM . (90) : — n. 78b : se sceaSa on hine gelyfende his
synna geandette. So: I. 62bl; n. 130a6.— n. 132bl&2: se
biscop, scinende on ... geearnungum and . . . geSincftuni, on
heofenan rice, mid iSam ^Elm? Sc. on ecere blisse rixiende
wuldraS. So scinende: I. 466a; n. 352a2, 502b1.— Other
examples: — I. 386a2: andbidigende ; I. 390bs: arisende; I.
226b: astigende; n. 136al : awegferende ; II. 176bl: bifi-
gende; blissigende: I. 340al&2, 580b, 596a4&5, n. 426a; II.
300bl: byrnende; I. 516b: cnucigende; I. 124a: dcedbetende;
drohtni(g)ende : I. 398b, II. 546bl; II. 82b: ehtende ; fcegnigende :
I. 596al, n. 312a3; n. 442b : farende; feallende: I. 380b2,
390b2;/orA%ende: n. 40b, 142b2, 176b2; forftstceppende : I.
278a, 500a2, n. 90al; II. 360a: fundigende; II. 176b4: ge*
seonde; I. 56bl : gewitende ; I. 41 Oa: gyddigende ; II. 246al:
hafitigende; hangi(g)ende : I. 594al, 596b8, n. 256a, 260b ;
I. 380b 3 : hreosende ; II. 302a : hrymende (or pred. ?) ; n.
152bl: licgende; H. 474b : lutiende; lybbende: II. 152b2,
364bl, 500a2, 502b2; I. 54b : miltsigende; n. 182a2: onbe-
seonde ; ir. 134a: plegende; I. 294b : reordigende; sittende:

I. 346al, 548b, n. 134b2, 3S2bl; n. 500al: smeagende; u.
138a2: standende; suwi(g)ende : II. 230a, SSO*2; I. 480b :
sweltende; I. 338b2: syngigende; I. 596b 2 : tihtende; truwi-
(g)ende: i. 2b, n. 478al; I. 374a : Keotende; II. 168a3:
ftrutigende ; ir. 204bl: fturhwunigende ; u. 130a3: under-
fonde; n. 140b3: unforhtigende ; II. 164b : wedende; I. 52b :
welwillende (or adverb?); wepende: II. 134b; writende: n.
332bl, 348al; wunigende: I. 134a, 150a2&3, 232a, 326b, 346a2,

II. 142b3, 440a, 498bl; i. 432a : yrsigende.

*The superior letters (a and b) refer respectively to the top and the
bottom of the page ; the superior figures distinguish the several examples.
4

190 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

NSF. (11): — i* 438bl&2: heo drohtnode gemamelice mid
"Sam apostolicum werode, infarende and ulfarende betwux
him. — Other examples: — I. 98a2: donde; I. 146b: lybbende ;

I. 66bl: rarigende; I. 440al: smeagende; I. 564a2: utflo-
wende; wepende: I. 566bl, n. 146b; n. 434b : writende; II.
182b4: wunigende.

NSN. (7):— I. 372b2: Da3t folc $a mid anre stemne
clypigende cwseS. So : I. 594b 2. — Other examples : — I. 566b2 :
blissigende; II. 140a3: brcestligende ; II. 450b : hreosende;

II. 142bl: sprecende; I. 296b : wunigende.

NS. M. or F. (2) :— I. 546b l & 2 : fyligde heap . . . manna . . .
fturhwumgende, to Criste gefteodende.

NS. F. or N. (1) : — I. 324bl : gecynd . . . wunigende.

NPM. (62):— i. 610a2&3: Sind eac surne steorran leoht-
beamede, fserlice arisende and hrsedlice gewitende. — I. 592b * & 2 :
iSser ge symle blissia^S, blowende and mid Criste rixigende.
So rixigende in I. 500b. — Other examples : I. 534b : bid-
dende; blissigende: I. 56b4, 564a; II. 258a: bugende ; I.
596b4: clypigende; n. 454al: cumende; I. 68b : dcedbelende;
drohtni(g)ende: I. 536b, n. 158b2, 296b2, 404a; dweligende:

I. 340b, n. 124b; feallende: I. 38b, 560a2, n. 126b, 214%
236b, 246bl; n. 34a2: feohtende ; II. 334a l : fleogende ; I.
352a : forftstceppende ; n. 130bl : gelyfende; I. 46b : hrymende ;

II. 138a3: licgende; I. 544b2: lutigende ; II. 130a4: lybbende;
miltsigende : I. 370a, 540b ; I. 78b 2 : nifterfeallende ; scinende .*
II. 136bl, 496a; I. 606b3: singende; sprecende: u. 248b,
284a2; II. 136b2: stymende ; n. 212b : suwigende; sweltende:
II. 34a3, 554a; I. 496b2: syngigende; I. 606bl: tcecende; I.
606b2: tihtende; I. 84al: upaspringende ; I. 334b3: wcedli-
gende; wedende: I. 50bl, 470a, II. 232b; II. 454a2: wepende;
wunigende: I. 150a3, 228b2, 238a, 338a (cf. Abs. Ptc. inA.-S.,
p. 11), 406a2, 544bl, 610b, n. 204b2; 11. 236a : yrsigende.

NPN. (2) :— n. 336a : Da deoflu feohtende scuton heora
fyrenan flan ongean fta sawle ; — II. 350b 3 : hlihhende.

NP. M. or N. (1) :— i. 60a x : weras and wif . . .fcegnigende.

THE APPO8ITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 191

GPM. (2) : — I. 30b 2 : wearS gesewen micel menigu heofon-
lices werodes God herigendra and singendra (or substan-
tive?). So: I. 38a2

DSM. (4): — I. 494a: and clypigendum Drihtne to ftam
ecan life caflice geandwyrt (or Abs. ? Cf. Abs. Ptc. in A.-S.,
p. 10). — I. 324b3 : to ftam geleaffullan heape, on ftysre worulde
wunigende. — Other examples : — I. 362a : cumendum (or Abs. ?
Cf. Abs. Ptc,. in A.-S., p. 10) ; n. 180bl : ridendum.

DPM. (6) :— n. 186b l & 2 : cyftde his forftsift on ser sumum
his leorning-cnihtum mid him drohtnigendum and sumum
oftrum on fyrlenum stowuin wunigendum. — Other examples : —
gelyfendum: I. 228b, II. 284a3; I. 440* 2: onlociendum; n.
284a 4 : sprecendum.

DDM. (1) : — ii. 1 72b 2 : ne seteowode ic inc bam slapendum f

ASM. (4) : — ii. 418aSl 4> 5 : underfoh me nu behreowsiendne,
ftone ^e "Su oft ftis andigendne and tcelendne forbeere; I.
496bl: lutigende.

ASF. (2) : — i. 376a : se dry worhte fta serene nseddran,
styrigende swylce heo cucu weere ; II. 344a 2 : byrnende.

ASN. (2) :— ii. 508bl : cw*e3 ««t he hit [= treow] under-
fenge feallende to foldan. — n. 150a: licgende.

APM. (4):— ii. 246b4: feallende; i. 334bl: licgende; n.
154&: lybbende; n. 242b2: sittende.

APF. (2) :— ii. 350b l & 2 : fta deoflu gelseddon fif manna
sawla, hreowlice gnorniende and grimetende, into "Sam fyre.

2. WITH AN OBJECT (274).

NSM. (176) : — n. 142a : Da begann se wer dreorig wepan,
anftracigende ftses ungelimpes. — ii. 188a: stod sum arwurSe
wer mid . . . gyrlum, axigende etc. — n. 164a2: Benedictus
. . . tsehte him ftses dsedbote, bebeodende ftaet etc. — i. 372bl : Se
apostol genealsehte ftam lice mid aftenedum earmum, $us
biddende. So: i. 126al, 418bl, 428al (w. gen.), 434b (ib.),
452a (ib.), 456b, 464bl, 598a3, n. 26a, 110b, 134b3, 138b,
144b2, 180b3, 304a2, 304b, 418al, 498b2 (w. gen.), 504b2.— i.

192 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

62*: Johannes beseah ftus cweftende (cwcefiende). So: I. 50b2,
66b3, 78b1*3, 88b, 98al, 120a&b, 124b, 126a, 192% 206a, 208b,
222b, 242a, 264a, 294a, 314b, 324b2, 328a, 350b, 358a l & 2, 364*,
366a, 370a, 376b, 380% 380bl, 390a, 390bl, 404b, 406al, 418b%
430a, 436b, 442b, 450% 450% 480a, 482% 502b2, 510b2, 520a
(=dicens), 522a&b, 530% 534% 538bl, 548% 550a2, 560bs,
568a l & 2, 568b 2, 570b, 572b 2, 576a, 596a 3, 600b \ 604b, 606a,
610a4; ii. 10b, 12b, 14% 16% 34a4, 52% 62a2, 72b, 84al, 112al&2,
182bl, 26Gb, 288% 312bl, 328b, 384% 400al, 406b, 414b2, 418a 2,
428al, 428b, 432b, 464b, 468al, 538% 542b, 562b, 576a.— Other
examples: — n. 540bl: belcewende ; bigende: n. 298% 408b ;
n. 184bl: blissigende; bodi(g)ende : I. 370b l, 560a \ n. 130al;
II. 414b l : bysmrigende (w. dat.) ; I. 48a : dypigende ; I. 66 a 2 :
ferigende ; n. 446b 2 : forbugende ; n. 130a 2 : forhogiende ; II.
1 68b l : forhtigende ; n. 352a 3 : fylgende ( w. dat.) ; n. 41 8b l & 2 :
geefenlcecende ; I. 78a 2 : gehyrende ; 11. 376b l & 2 : getacnigende ;
hcebbende: I. 126% 130a2; II. 432b : herigende; Icerende: I.
370b2, 596a2; I. 400bl: liccetende; I. 600b2: manigende ; n.
320a : ofersceawigende ; n. 44 6b 1 : ondrcedende ; I. 508a :
onstandende (should be on standendef); reecende: n. 350al,
356b; I. 388b: sawende (or pred.?); sceawi(g)ende : n. 32a2,
120a 3 ; secende : I. 338b l (or pred. ?), n. 358a 2, 448a ; I. 596b 3 :
secgende; I. 388al: secende; n. 138al: syngende; II. 334b :
smeagende; II. 182a3: swerigende; swuteligende : n. 400a2,
466a ; n. 540b 2 : teonde; tihtende : I. 528a \ n. 328a ; n. 326b l :
tody pig ende ; todcelende: I. 322b (w. dat.), n. 338% 344al; I.
106b : towurpende; 11. I28b : fteowigende (w. dat.) ; ftreagende:
II. 170% 256a2; I. 608al: undergynnende ; II. 346b2: wilm-
gende (w. gen.); writende: n. 272b3, 364b2; I. 572bl: wyr-
cende.

NSF. (16):— n. 76b: Seo endlyfte tid bi« seo forwerode
ealdnyss, ^am dea^e genealcecende. — Other examples : — arcef-
ni(g)ende : I. 30b 3, 42b l & 2 ; biddende : I. 66b 2, 566a 2, n. 184a l ; .
cweftende: I. 104b, 194% 388a2, 426a3, n. 42% 432b2; heore-
nigende: II. 438b (w. dat.), 440a2 (ib.).—i. 98a3: ondrsedende;
II. 182b3: fteowigende.

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 193

NSN. (8) : — ii. 578b : folc ham gewende, ftancigende iSaern
^Elmihtigan ealra his goda. — Other examples : — biddende: I.
68a3, ii. 140b2; cwetiende: I. 200a, 594b3, n. 110% 114*;
II. 256b: Kreagende.

NS. M. or N. (1) :— -ii. 342a : sang . . . cweftende etc.

NPM. (61): — i. 38a3: hi . . . godum mannum sibbe
bodedon, swutellice ceteowiende 3set etc. — Other examples : —
II. 200b : anbidigende (w. gen.)/ II. 548a : andswariende ;
befrinende: I. 78a, 1 04a (= dicentes) ; biddende: I. 74a, 562b,
ii. 30b2, 160b2, 176a, 396b, 484*, 486b; n. 252bl: bigende ;
bodigende: n. 492bl; ii. 506a : clypigende ; cweftende: I.
4*, 64a, 68b2, 510bl (=dieentes), 538b4, 560b3, 596b5, ii.
112a3, 172bl, 252b2, 300a, 484b, 488al; ii. 168b2: cyKende;
ii. 534b 2 : drincende ; n. 492b 3 : dweliende (or pred. ?) ; n.
534bl: etende; I. 58 8b : ferigende; I. 52 6a : gadrigende ;
n. 226b : geeuenlcecende ; I. 560* 3: gehyrsumigende (w. dat.)/
I. 90a: hcebbende; healdende: I. 528* 2, 538b3; herigende: I.
32* 2, 42b4; II. 474a: leasetende (or pred.?); mcersigende:
I. 544a2, n. 194b; n. 248b2: meldigende; n. 34* l: oferswiK-
ende; II. 490b2: onlihtende; II. 248a : sleande; I. 426bl:
swiiigende ; ftancigende (w. dat. and gen.) : I. 102a, 606b *, n.
272bl; Keowigende (w. dat.): II. 70b, 310*; II. 250* *: wre-
gende; wuldrigende: I. 32a, 42b3; II. 130*5: wundrigende (w.
gen.) ; n. 490b l : wyrcende.

NPN, (4):— 11. 56b: 2Et ^5am giftum wseron gesette six
stsanene wseterfatu, healdende genlipige twyfealde gemetu oftfte
"Sryfealde. — n. 548a : stodon twa heofonlice werod setforan
$sere cytan dura, singende heofonlicne sang (or pred.?); —
cweftende: n. 414b3, 416* 2.

NP. M. or N. (1) :— i. 60* 2 : weras and wif . . . eweftende.

GP. (2): — i. 30bl: wear^ gesewen micel menigu heofon-
lices werodes God herigendra. So : i. 38* *.

DPM. (1): — n. 440bl: swa swa he behet eallum him
fteniendum.

APM. (4):— i. 334b2: Manega Lazaras ge habbaS nu
licgende set eowrum gatum, biddende eowre oferflowend-

194 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

nysse. So : n. 330*. — Other examples : — I. 28* : bodigende ;
I. 296* : cweftende.

B. — THE PRETERITE PARTICIPLE (199).
I. WITHOUT AN OBJECT (194).

NSM. (94) :— ii. 182al : he iSa dearie ablicged aweg tengde.
— I. 10* : Deos ftrynnys is an God ; ftset is se Faeder and his
wisdom of him sylfum sefre acenned. So : I. 34b, 150* x, 222*,
278b2, 464b2, 500al, n. 42b3, 204b3, 366*.— Other examples :—
II. 352al: afylled; n. 510b : qfyrkt (or pred.?); I. 550* l:
aha/en; ahangen: n. 598% 606b; astreht: I. 426b2, n. 186b3 ;
II. 332b3: aftelboren; I. 434a2: awed; II. 254b : awend; i.
598b: aworpen; n. 120*1: befangen; I. 426a2: befrinen;

I. 56b2: bewcefed; 11. 382b3 : fornumen; I. 66* l : forscyldigod ;

II. 424a: fulfremed; i. 594bl: gecebyligd; I. 414b2: geanc-
sumod; n. 250a2: gebolgen ; gebyld: II. 390b, 41 2b2; ge-
drefed: I. 414bl; n. 140al: geflogen ; gefrcetewod: n. 118b;
n. 306al: gefallod; i. 52ft2: gefultumod; geglen(c)g(e)d : II.
512b2, 518b2; n. 130b2: gehadod; n. 244a : gehalgod; gehaten:
i. 502*, n. 152* 2, 304* \ 308* ^ 332b2, 348* 2, 412bl, 488a2;
gehathyrt: II. 374b, 424b; n. 250b2: gelcedd; gelaKod: 1. 128*,
II. 54*; II. 270b: gelifcest; II. 250bl: gelogod; gelyfed: II.
152* \ 332b4; i. 468b2: gemartyrod ; n. 158bl: gemenged;
II. 348* 3: gemetegod; I. 588b : geneadod; 11. 24b : geripod;
n. 42b2: gesceapen; geseryd(d) : I. 528b, 578b (or pred.?), n.
312b3, 382b2, 512bl; geset(t): I. 126*3, 130al, 218*1; n. 234b :
gesworen; I. 428b : getogen; I. 614b : geftread; n. 36b :
geftungen; n. 51 6b2: gewceht; gewcepnod: I. 450b2, n. 334* 2,
502*; geworht: i. 278bl, II. 42bl; I. 426* 1: gewreged; II.
518*: gewuldrod; I. 52* l: ofiorfod; II. 150b: onbryrd; I.
290*: rihtgelyfed; n. 514*: toswollen; n. 372*: unabeden;
II. 204al: unbegunnen; I. 428a2: ungeaxod; n. 336b : wi-
gederod; n. 204a2: ungeendod.

NSF. (14):— n. 546b3, 548* M Hire modor, Redempta
gehaten, stod hire ofer, micclum afyrht for iSam heofonlican

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 195

leohte. So gehaten : n. 284a l, 306a 2, 584ft.— Other examples :
— I. 446a: a/iafen; n. 58a : astreht; I. 502b : aftrawen ; I.
<50b: awreht; n. 90a 2 : fortredene ; II. 138b2: gelaftod; n.
308b : getintregod ; n. 498a : geworht ; II. 586b : ymbscryd
(or pred.?).

NSN. (16):— I. 184bl&2: $a fif hlafas waaron swylce hit
seed wsere, na on eorSan besawen, ac gemenigfyld fram 'Sam $e
eorSan geworhte. — Other examples: — n. 572a : afyrht; n.
494b142: a#oten; i. 352b : bedysed ; II. 140a2: bepceht ;
II. 326a2: forscyldgod; u. 27 2b2: geblodgod; gehaten: n.
312b2, 438a; I. 508b2: gescrydd; I. 508bl: #eseft; II. 510b3:
geftuht; n. 140bl: ofscamod; n. 510b2: toslopen.

NS. F. or N. (1) ;— I. 42b4 : gemynd . . . geswutelod.

NPM. (20): — i. 608a2: ftget we huru his genealsecendan
dom, mid mislicum swinglum qfcerede, ondraedon. — Other
examples : — n. 326b 2 : acennede ; i. 98a 4 : ascyrede ; asende :
I. 348al&2, 540a; i. 560b x : fordemde ; fornumene: n. 246b2,
348b; i. 84a2: forsodene; i. 566al: gedrehte; i. 298b : ^e-
gkngede; i. 504b : gelcerde; i. 10a2: gesceapene; I. 538b2:
gescrydde; n. 396b4 : gewcehte; 11. 246b3: gewcepnode ; I.
526b : gewriSene ; i. 544b4: gewunode ; I. 610al: ?eo/i<-
beamede.

NPF. (3) :— ii. 174a : Twa mynecenna wseron droht-
nigende on gehendnysse his mynstres of seSelborenre mseg-Se
asprungene. — Other examples: — I. 366b : bepcehte; II. 298*:

NPN. (3) :— n. 380a : deoflu, «e feollon to his fotum, mid
fyrhte fornumene (or pred. ?). — n. 326a l : comon cwelmbsare
deoflu swutellice gesewene, on sweartum hiwe, in to $am
cilde. — n. 354b : He befran 3a hwam $a gebytlu gemynte
waeron, swa mserlice getimbrode.

GPM. (1) : — ii. 290a : gela^unge gecorenra manna to "Sam
ecan life.

DSM. (2): — n. 546a: G. awrat be sumum geiSyldigan
were, Stephanus gehaten. — ii. 308a 2 : set foran iSam casere,
Aurelianus genamod.

196 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

DSF. (2) : — ii. 494a : becomon to anre heafodbyrig, Suanir
gehaten; — ir. 546b2: be sumere mynecyne, Romula gehaten.

DPM. (1): — ii. 286a: Sume gecwemdon englum on heora
gesthusum underfangenum Surh cumliSnysse.

ASM. (21):— ii. 596b1-2'*3: Ic gelyfe on senne Crist,
Heelend Drihten, Sone ancennedan Godes Sunu, of Sam Feeder
aeenned ser ealle worulda, God of Gode, Leoht of Leohte,
SoSne God of SoSum Gode, dcennedne na geworhtne. So
acennedne: I. 198a.— ii. 168al : asende his swurdboran, Riggo
gehaten (sic/). So gehaten = an accusative : 11. 358al, 46 8a2
(=eo nomine), 480b, 492b2. — ii. 162bl: asende him aenne
focan to lace mid attre gemencged. — Other examples : — II.
112b: befangenne; n. 598b 2 : forlorenne ; II. 92a : forftrcestne ;
II. 280a: gebrcedne; n. 252a: gecigedne; II. 120a2: geende-
byrdne; I. 210a: gefreatewodne ; I. 330b : geglencgedne ; ii.
41 6b2: gehceftne; gescrydne: n. 168a2, 500b.

ASF. (2):— n. 182b2: se halga wer hsefde ane swustor,
Scolastica gehaten ; n. 124*: afandode.

ASN. (7):— ii. 264a2: Ne ete ge of Sam lambe nan Sing
hreaw, ne on wsetere gesoden, ac gebrced to fyre. So gesoden :
n. 278b1.— Other examples :— ii. 260b2: gedeced; ii. 198b:
gefadod; I. 42a2: gehalgod; I. 134b: gelacod ; I. 42al: ge-
wemmed.

APM. (3):— n. 516bl: oSSe hwam betsehst Su us nu
forlcetenef— Other examples :— ii. 486bl: gedrehte; I. 568bl:
gescrydde.

APF. (3):— I. 68al&2: ge begeaton eow Seosterfulle wu-
nunga mid dracum afyllede, and . . . mid . . . witum qfyllede, —
I. 506a: Da gesawon hi setforan Ssere cyrcan norSdura, on
Sam marmanstane, swilce mannes fotlaesta fsestlice on Sam
stane geftyde. [Though Sweet and others give fotlcest as
masculine only, it seems to be feminine here. See, too,
I. 508a.]

APN. (1): — I. 218a2: se sacerd bletsian sceole palmtwigu
and hi swa gebletsode Sam folce d^lan.

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 197

II. WITH AN OBJECT (5).

NSN. (1): — i. 594a2: $u ceaf, ecum ontendnyssum ge-
gearcod, gehyr me.

NPM. (1) : — i. 544b3: deorum geferlcehte, to engelicum
spraecum gewunode, on micclum wundrum scinende waeron.

NPN. (1) : — ii. 314b: raanega sind beboda mannum gesette
(or pred. ?).

GSF. (1): — ii. 292a: tihiS Surh miltsunge him forgyfenre
raihte (or Abs. Dat. ? See Abs. Pte. in A.-S., p. 11).

APM. (1) : — ii. 598bl: gescyld $ine Seowan -Sinum rase-
genftrymrne underSeodde.

Note: Latin Participles occur as follows : — (1) untranslated :
credentes, persuadenfes, seeuti, in Pref. to I. ; (2) translated :
dicens (dioentes) = cweftende, i. 510bl, 520a = befrinende in i.
104a ; — raptum = i5e wees gegripen, ii. 332b ; — circumdata =
ymbscryd, n. 58 6b.

-ffiLFRIC'S LIVES OF SAINTS (543).
A. — THE PRESENT PARTICIPLE (335).

I. WITHOUT AN OBJECT (129).

NSM. (54) : — 442. 24 : com se arwurSa swyftun to sumum
. . . smySe on swefne ceteowiende wurSlice geglencged. —
xxvni. 6 : Se casere wses cene and re^Se and deofolgild
beeode dwollice libbende. — 482. 182 : he sona wearS hal
beorhte locigende se fte blind wses. — Other examples : — 478.
92: blyssigende; xxin. B. 1991 : clypigende ; 156. 134:
drohtnigende ; xxni. B. 640: eftcyrrende ; 448. 100 : fcegni-
gende ;— feallende : 396. 222, xxvin. 114; 282. difeohtend
[sic] ; xxiii. B. 1992 : forftgangende ; 14. 77 : forftsteppende ;
xxni. B. 645: geftrystlcecende ;— hangi(g)ende : 428. 212,
227, xxix. 254 ; xxni. B. 733 : hawigende ; heofende :
xxx. 180; xxni. B. 366: hlihhende; 526. 617: hlydende;
466. 417: hoppende; xxiii. B. 726: hreowsigende ; 174.

198

66: licgende; xxx. 47: nytende; xxm. B. 154: restende;
rixi(g)ende: 146. 474, 412. 480; 178. 158 : scinende; xxm,
B. 1532: sittende; 452. 184: siftigende; xxm. B. 6671 :
smeagende; xxm. B. 664: sorgigende ; xxm. B. 164:
standende; xxv. 156: sweltende; 76. 443: teonde; xxv.
14: truwigende; xxm. B. 1862 : ftenigende; xxx. 32 :
fteonde; xxm. B. 231 : fteowigende; xxv. 472: understand-
ende; xxx. 258: utgangende; 82. 550: waciende; xxm.
B. 162: wendende; ivepende: 158. 199, 510. 371, xxm. B.
191, xxx. 327; wundrigende: 518. 513, 534. 745; wuni-
gende: 12. 33, 78. 4941, 336. 1, 470. 4721.

NSF. (37) : — xxm. B. 431 : ic cwseS to hire geornlice
and unforbugendlice behealdende and cweSende. — xxm. B.
472 : mine cneowa gebigde beforan -Sam halgan andwlitan
•Sysurn wordum biddende. — 212. 34: Heo aras $a bifigende
for $sere beorhtan gesihSe (or pred. ?). So : xxm. B. 461. —
Other examples : — 192. 37,8 : blissigende ; cweftende (cwceftende) :
xxm. B. 2641, 636, 696; xxm. B. 6681 : eftcyrrende; 196.
162: egsigende; 434. 42 : fcestende ; xxm. B. 51Q:fleonde;
gangende: xxm. B. 685, xxvi. 219; xxm. B. 51 12: ge-
hihtende; xxm. B. 702 : geomrigende; xxm. B. 274 :
hangiende; xxm. B. 486: hawigende; heofende: xxm. B.
428, 721; xxm. B. 544: hreafigende; xxm. B. 334:
licgende; xxm. B. 701: locigende; 196. 161 : olecende;
scinende: 250. 197, xxvn. 117; xxm. 548: sorgigende;
xxm. B. 283 : syrwiende ; xxm. B. 457 : ftrystlcecende ;
wepende: xxm. B. 485, 494, 496, 541, 546, 720; wuni-
(g)ende: 20. 1772, 38. 230.1

NSN. (5) : — 78. 468 : wunode an ma3den mserlice droht-
nigende geond feowertig geare fee fsegre gehealden. — Other
examples :— xxvi. 159 : feallende ; 88. 652: flitende; 184.
242 : grymetende ; 44. 327 : wunigende.

NPM. (17):— 98. 154: Da eoden $a hseSengyldan into
heora temple clypigende hlude to iSam leasan gode. — 226. 110 :
$a clypodon Sser $ry weras cnucigende s&t ^sem geate. —
Other examples: — 438. 99: blyssigende; 514. 445: dreori-

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 199

gende; 192. 379: drohtniende; xxin. B. 115: gereordende;
110. 3381: glitiniende; 240. 18: libbende; licgende: 54. 62,
XXV. 496; xxv. 513: ridende; 326. 83: sprecende; xxv.
779: standende; 326. 100: ftancigende ; 94. 77: fteonde;
xxvi. 186: wundrigende ; 70. 330: wunigende.

NPN. (4) : — 224. 861 & 2 : binnan 3am wseron ealle cace
nytenu creopende and gangande (or pred.?). — Other ex-
amples:— xxvn. 39: dynigende; xxiv. 53: grymetende.

DSM. (2): — 14. 79 : Nis nanum menn on ... life libbendum
nanes "Singes swa myeel neod. — xxin. B. 673 : Dus mid
tearum biddende, him eft o3er ge3anc on befeoll 3us cwe-
3ende. [I omit he after Bus, as does Skeat's " B."]

DSF. (3) : — 212. 40 : forgif me 3a to ctannysse to criste
farendre. — xxin. B. 752 : geic eac gebiddan 3eahhwa33ere
for me of 3yssere worulde hleorende on 3am mon3e etc. ; —
36. 185: licgendre.

ASM. (2) : — 78. 489 : gelsedde hine on mergen for3 swi3e
fsegres hiwes buton selcum womme and wel sprecande; —
78. 48 12 : unsprecende.

ASF. (2):— 334. 216: Se sang geswutelaS 3a halgan
3rynnysse on anre godcundnysse adfre wunigende; ib. xxix.
5(?).

APM. (3) : — 388. 80 : se cyuing sende swy$e fela seren-
dracan to ... eardum embe 3e axiende. — Other examples : —
xxx. 429 : gebiddende (or pred. ?) ; 32. 130 : licgende.

II. WITH AN OBJECT (206).

NSM. (114): — xxvi. 137 1&2: he ftaBrbinnan wunode
godes lof arcerende and gerihtlceeende 3set folc. — xxin. B.
96 : 3as weorc Zosimus behealdende hine sylfne geornlice to
fulfreinednysse a3ened[e] gemang 3am emnwyrhtum. So :
xxx. 233. — 60. 166 : [he] com to basilic biddende fulluhtes.
— 62. 193 : Da asende se ealdorman sona to basilic, biddende
earmlice 3a3t etc. — 78. 487 : ac se bisceop . . . wacode ealle
3a niht mid 3am wsedlian hreoflian, biddende 3one h^lend

200 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

Sset he etc. — 410. 443: Da ... raannases ... to 3am
selruihtigan clypode, biddende miltsuDge ealra his mandseda.
Other instances of biddende: 66. 278, 106. 278, 122. 115,
224. 69, 312. 80, 314. 109, 316. 135, 420. 95, 448. 103,
458. 273, xxm. B. 719, xxv. 487, xxvii. 212, xxix.
56. — 96. 91 : he him asende 3isne frofer ftus cwctf&ende etc.
So cweftende (cwceSende): 22. 190, 154. 1062 (or pred.?), 182.
2032, 250. 2122, 314. 109, 364. 3, 378. 216, 386. 29, 408. 417,
444. 64; xxm. B. 6672, 6682, 670, 674, xxiv. 103, xxvi.
100 ; xxx. 45, 98.— Other examples :— xxm. B. 161 : ahceb-
bende; xxm. B. 672: berende; xxm. B. 7962: bletsigende; —
bodigende: 346. 135 (or pred.?), xxix. 114 (or pred.?), 144
(or pred.?); — xxm. B. 1531: brucende (w. gen.); 366. 48:
bysmngende; dypigende: 180. 181 (or pred.?), 182. 2031,
250. 2121, 474. 49, xxm. B. 601; 220. 33: cunnigende;
xxm. B. 638: cyssende; xxm. B. 6392: donde; xxm. B.
271 : foresettende ; 90. 666 : fremiende (w. dat.); 64. 221 :
gebysmriende ; gehyrende: xxm. B. 587, xxx. 246; xxm.
B. 678: geseonde; hcebbende: 284. 10, xxm. B. 78, 151,
669; herigende: 80. 523, 156. 139, 222. 35, xxm. B. 7963,
xxix. 296 (or pred.?); xxx. 179 : hopiende (w. gen.); 154.
1061 : hrymende (or pred. ?) ; xxm. B. 292 : hyrende; xxm.
B. 689 : hyrsumigendc. (w. dat.) ; xxm. B. 363 : ofergeotende ;
xxm. B. 185: oferge.tiligende ; xxx. 4: oferhlifigende ;
xx vm. 37: offrigende; 320. 5: sawende; secgende: 246.
135, 300. 242, 410. 422, 462. 331, xxv. 5411, xxvii. 1902;
xxv. 5412: seSende; 28. 59: singende ; xxvii. 1901 :
sleande; smeagende : xxm. B. 280 (= putans), xxvii.
137; tihtende: 84. 574, 96. 103, 306. 313; xxm. B. 680:
tweonigende; %anci(g)ende (w. gen. & dat.): 28. 75, xxvii.
102; Keowigende (w. dat.): 330. 152, 486. 251; 82. 538:
ftingiende (w. dat.); xxm. B. 1861 : understandende ; wil-
nigende (w. gen.) : 220. 28, xxvi. 56 ; wuldrigende : xxm. B.
6391, 679, 7961, xxvii. 217; wundriende (w. gen.): 54. 77,
56. 98; wur&igende : xxvii. 105, xxix. 232; wyrcende:
78. 4942, 470. 4722.

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 201

NSF. (36) : — 206. 178 : am seo burhwaru endemes to Sam
arleasan axiende mid gehlyde etc. — Other examples : — xxill.
B. 538: adreogende; xxni. B. 51 11: anbidigende; xxm.
B. 398: beswicende; biddende (w. ac. or w. gen.).- 82. 533,
554; 178. 154, 180. 200, 182. 224, xxm. B. 560; dypi-
(g)ende: 80. 501, 210. 25, 224. 87, 92; 226. 101, 332. 191
(dypiende stemn = vox damantis), xxiii. B. 487; cnyssende:
xxni. B. 542, 549 ; cweSende (cwceftende) : 82. 533 ; xxiii.
B. 282, 432, 454, 489, 591 ; xxx. 241, 343, 444; xxm. B.
319 : forhcelende ; xxm. B. 397 : gegadrigende ; xxm. B. 597 :
halsigende; xxm. B. 521 : notigende ; xxm. B. 581 : smea-
gende; xxni. B. 400: teonde; xxm. B. 495: towriftende;
xxm. B. 426 : ftencende.

NSN. (5) : — xxm. B. 595 : ac godes word is cucu and
scearp, innan Icerende Sis mennisce andgyt. — Other examples :
— biddende: 60. 171, xxv. 716; xxm. B. 324: cweftende;
xxm. B. 287 : hcebbende (= reducens).

NPM. (44) : — 472. 9 : gebugon to fulluhte behreowsigende
heora synna. — Other examples : — biddende (w. g. or ac.) :
46. 357(?), 70. 334, 138. 352, 240. 40, 242. 75, 400. 258,
448. 121, 452. 188; xxv. 336, 768; xxix. 172; xxvi.
79: bodigende; 136. 305: dypigende ; cweftende: xxx. 140,
281, 425; xxix. 192: cyKende ; xxvi. 238: feccende;
xxviil. IQifolgiende (w. dat); xxm. B. 139: gefyllende;
geseonde: xxm. B. 377, xxx. 184; 148. 24: halsigende;
heri[g]ende: 70. 349 (or pred.?), 102. 222, 110. 338,2 138.
351, 142. 403; mcersigende : 26. 37, 230. 162, 242. 51 (or
pred.?); xxv. 495 : sceotiende ; 54. 56 : seeende (or pred.?)/
secgende: 146. 458, xxv. 121; %and(g)ende (w. dat. &
gen.) : 114. 410, 132. 249, 438. 85, 460. 322, 478. 96, xxv.
453; 80. 526: wuldrigende ; 184. 249: wur^igende.

NP. F. or M. (1):— 224. 66: wydevvan and Searfan . . .
ceteowigende.

GSF. (1) :— xxm. B. 426 : $a onhran soSlice min mod
and $a eagan minre heortan halo andgit mid me sylfre

202 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

ftencende -Sset me ~3one ingang belucen "Sa onfeormeganda (sic)
minra misdseda (but, as is evident, the text is very corrupt).

DSM. (3) :— xxni. B. 246 : Da forgeaf heo Zosime and-
swarigende Amen. [The text seems corrupt. Skeat trans-
lates : " Then she gave Zosimus [her blessing, he] answering
'Amen.' "] — xxm. B. 674 : Bus mid tearutn biddende, him
eft o$er geiSanc on befeoll, iSus cweftende. [I here follow
Skeat's "B" and omit he after Bus.]— 82. 540 : Se wyle $e
gehyran me ftingiende to him.

ASM. (2) :— 480. 143 : het se foresseda dema gelsedan 3one
halgan on heardre racenteage feorr on wrsecsiiS ferigende on
scipe. — xxx. 411 : se casere ... het hine ungyrdan and
bewa3pnian and beforan his ansyne aBtstandan mid his wife
and his cildum swilce ofergcegendne his hlafordes bebod.

B. — THE PRETERITE PARTICIPLE (208).

I. WITHOUT AN OBJECT (205).

NSM. (87) :— 14. 761&2: se halga gast is sefre of him bam,
na acenned ac forSsteppende. So acenned in 12. 34, 36. —
114. 428 : Da fleah martianus for nean adyd. — 206. 180 : Da
fleah quiutianus afyrht for "Sam gehlyde. So: 348. 166. —
Other examples :— 386. 48: afunden; afylled: 194. 424,
314. 125, 330. 153, 330. 157; 466. 420: ahred; asend :
48. 413, 396. 207, xxiv. 140; xxvi. 173: asmttod; xxx.
31 : ceftelboren; 84. 593: awend; 158. 174: awreht ; xxni.
B. 235: belocen; xxv. 782: beswungen; xxxi. 36: betceht ;
428. 228 : fordemed; xxv. 498: fornumen ; 446. 96: ge-
biged; 394. 179: gebolgen; gebyld: 58. 142, xxix. 143;
ged(e)ged: 238. 10, XXVI. 9; xxx. 234: gedrefcd: xxm.
B. 179 : gefremed; 422. 126 : gefullod; 150. 40 : gefultumod;
456. 238: geglencged; 462. 336: gehceled; gehaten, "called,
named:" 28. 58, 54. 63, 84. 567, 136. 322, 154. 126, 186.
296, 398. 228, 408. 389, 426. 196, 436. 62, 472. 14, 476. 72,
xxiv. 69; xxv. 7, 298, 594, 749; xxvi. 2, 120, 257; xxvn.
22, 47; 126. 159: gehaten, "summoned;" 446. 95: ge-

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 203

hoferod; xxix. 81: gelcered ; 96. 99: gelaftod; gelyfed:
422. 125; xxvi. 3, 8; xxvn. 46; xxm. B. 706: gereht;
14. 631: gesceapen; 162. 247: gescryd; xxm. B. 234:
gewceced ; 66. 273: gewcepnod; xxm. B. 218: gewend; 14.
632: geworht; 92. 22: gewyssod; xxv. 616: geyrsod ; 532.
718: of dreed; xxm. B. 322: ofergoten; xxix. 64: o/-
wundrod; 208. 219: onceled; 12. 161: unbegunnen ; 222.
45: unbunden ; uncuft : 66. 272, 116. 17; ungeendod (un-
gecendod): 12. 162, 268. 103; xxxi. 42: ungewemmed.

NSF. (14):— 180. 180: am seo burhwaru ablycged Sider.
— xxm. B. 427 : Da ongan ic biterlice wepan and swifte
gedrefed mine breost cnyssan. — xxm. B. 524 : Heo $a
gedrefedu him andswarode. — 420. 108 : Da wa3s ftaer gehende
"Sam halgan wa?re an myrige dun mid wyrtum amet. — Other
examples: — 20. 1771 : befangen; xxm. B. 477: forftoht;
222. 55: geciged; xxm. B. 238: gefremed; 222. 56: ge-
glencged; 386. 501 : gehaten; 222. 54: gelyfed; 386. 502:
gemodod ; xxm. B. 2642 : gewend; 38. 2302 : uncuft.

NSN. (15): — 78. 469: wunode an masden maerlioe droht-

nigende geond feowertig geare fee fa3gre gehealden. — 298.

229 : 3a3t o$er folc fleah afyrht for heora hreame. — Other

examples: — xxvi. 183: astreht; xxv. 567: befangen; 236.

250 : fulfremed ; xxvi. 214: gebrocod; xxm. B. 749: ge-

cweden; 32. 134: gecyged ; gehaten: 44. 327, 170. 71, 236.

249; gelyfed: 170. 72, 194. 2; 30. 94: uncvft ; xxm. B.

285 : ymbseald.

NPM. (37):— 180. 167: ac hi . . . ablicgede cyrdon to

heora . . . hlaforde. — 468. 437 : $eah $e $a ludeiscan -Surh

deofol beswicene nellon gelyfan. — Other examples: — afyllede:

126. 168, xxvni. 60; afyrhte: 166. 317, xxv. 611, xxvi.

231, xxix. 305; 54. 53: alysde; 116. 25: ceftelborene;

xxvi. 93: cumene; fornumene: 58. 138 (or pred. ?), 204.

148, 326. 96; 126. 167: geborene; 342. 73: gebundene ;

gebylde: xxv. 488, xxvil. 149; 208. 216: geegsode; xxv.

339: gehyrte; 318. 172: geleofede; gelyf(e)de: XXIV. 2,

xxv. 109, xxvm. 15; 184. 245: gemartyrode; xxv. 558:

204 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

getemode; 460. 319: geuntrumode; gewcepnode: 190. 359,
XXV. 333; xxv. 559: gewenode; geworhte: 386. 38, 408.
386; 506.300: ofdrcedde; 298.228: ofhrorene; xxv. 497 :
ofslagene; 54. 58 : onbryrde; xxm. B. 571 : totorene (but
the passage is corrupt).

NPF. (1) : — xxv. 813 : on ftysre worulde synd $reo ende-
byrdnysse on annysse gesette ; 3a3t synd etc.

DSM. (7) :— 462. 351 : oSSset hi becomon to sumum
senlicum felda ftegre geblowen. — xxv. 757 : sum leogere . . .
ssede 3am ealdormenn Apollonius geciged. — 140. 368: Nico-
stratus . . . wearft . . . toforan 3am deman gebroht, fabianus
gehaten. So gehaten: 224. 79, 402. 317, xxv. 331, XXVI.
121.

DSF. (11):— xxm. B. 438 : for3on witodlice genoh riht-
lic is me swa besmitenre fram 3inre clsenan ungewemmednysse
beon ascirod. — xxm. B. 598 : Nu ic 3e . . . andbidde . . .
3aet 3u for me earmlicre forlegenre gebidde. — 54. 83 : ge-
wendon to anre widgyllan byrig, Autiochia geciged. So
geciged: 146. 462. — 54. 66: ferde to 3a3re [flowendan] ea
iordanis gehaten. So gehaten: 68. 325, 184. 264, 238. 11,
xxv. 413, xxix. 4, 146.

DSN. (2):— 196. 10: betsehte hi anum fulum wife
Afrodosia geciged. — xxxi. 11 : Martinus . . . wses geboren
on 3am fsestene Sabaria gehaten.

DS. M. or N. (1) :— 172. 36 : He gegteugde me mid orle
of golde awefen.

ASM. (20):— 44. 3501&2: Basilla h^fde enne h£e3ene
wogere, pompeius gecyged, swi3e ceftelboren. So geciged:
xxix. 213. — 312. 68 : A. . . genam senne mycelne bollan
mid bealuwe afylied. — xxvii. 11 : forlet 3a senne dsel on
•Saere ylcan byrig 3e Crist on 3rowode, swa swa us cyftaiS
gewritu, mid seolfre bewunden. — Other examples : — 200. 75 :
gebigedne (or pred. ?); xxm. B. 661: gefylltdne; gehaten:
28. 67, 104. 230, 124. 125, 194. 409, 222. 42, 302. 277,
408. 396, xxv. 761, xxvi. 53, xxix. 204, 214; 78. 4811:
toswollen ; 78.482: unafunden.

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 205

ASF. (4) : — xxvin. 36 : wi$ aiie litle burh Octodorum
gehaten. So gehaten : xxxi. 59. — xxm. B. 500 : ic becom
to sanctes iohannes cyrcan $ses fulwihteres wr3 iordanen
gesette. — 436. 80 : geworht.

ASN. (2) : — 92. 26 : Da fundon his magas sum seftelboren
maBden basilissa gehaten; 132. 258: untobrocen.

APM. (1) :— 246. 146 : unscrydde.

APF. (2): — xxm. B. 128: sum [baar] beana mid waeiere
ofgotene; ib. xxm. B. 663.

APN. (1) : — 24. 225 : ealle lichamlicra -Singa hiw heo mseg
on byre sylfre gehiwian, and swa gehiwode on hyre mode
gehealden.

II. WITH AN OBJECT (3).

NSN. (1):— 288. 71 : forSan «e heo gebedhus is, gode
gehalgod.

ASM. (1) : — xxm. B. 676 : Eala me ungesaBligan swa
rihtwislicre gesih'Se afremdad me.

ASF. (1) : — xxm. B. 442 : gefultuma me nu anegre aelces
fylstes bedceled (MS. G : bedcdede).

Note: Latin Participles occur in 332. 191 (vox clamantis
= clypiende stemri), 338. 33 (vir videns deum = Dcet is on
Engliscre sprwce : se wer ~Se god gesihft), xxm. B. 280
(putans = smeagende), xxm. B. 287 (reducens = hcebbende).

JELFRIC'S DE VETERI ET DE NOVO
TESTAMENTO (41).

A, — THE PRESENT PARTICIPLE (15).

I. WITHOUT AN OBJECT (5).

NSM. (4) :— 18. 32 : he bifiende feoll to I. fotum (or
pred.?). — 20. 24: Bellatores . . . ure burga healda-3 . . .
feohtende mid wa3mnum ; libbende (lybbende): 2. 26, 12. 40.

DPM. (1) :— 5. 34 : [mete] him a3lce daeg com edniwe
of heofenum feowertig wintra fyrst on -5am westene/arencfc.
5

206 MORGAN CAJLLAWAY, JR.

II. WITH AN OBJECT (10).

NSM. (7) :— 18. 332 : he . . . ieoll to I. fotum . . . biddende
miltsunge. — Other examples: — 16. 32: bodigende (or pred.?);
16. 10: cweftende; 16. 302 : Icerende; 20. 10: secgende ; wyr-
cende (wircende) : 15. 23, 16. 301.

NPM. (3) : — 19. 45 : iSser "Seer hig blissiaft andbidiende git
ecan lifes; heriende: 5. 28, 8. 27.

B.— THE PRETERITE PARTICIPLE (26).

I. WITHOUT AN OBJECT (26).

NSM. (13): — 2. 9, 10: Her is seo halige Srinnis on
•Sisurn -Srim mannum ... se ... feeder of nanum o$rum
gecumen, and se micla wisdom of 3am wisan fa3der sefre
. . . acenned. — Other examples : — 3.25: adrenced ; 13.40:
ahangen; 3. 2: awend; 2. 44: gefcestnod ; gehaten: 9. 20,
11. 4; 11. 5 : gelyfed ; 17. 24 : gestrangod; 12. 34 : geSogen;
18. 331: ofergoten; 18. 34: ofsceamod.

NPM. (3) : — 20. 20 : Laboratores sind yrSlingas and aahte
men to $am anum betcehte etc. So : 20. 22.

NPF. (2) :— 14. 12 : Sajt syndon Sreo bee mid lufe afyllede
folce to lare; 11. 21 : gehatene.

DSM. (1) : — 16. 24 : binnan anum igofte feor on wrsecsi^e,
Pathmos gehaten.

ASM. (4) : — 3. 23 : se acwealde his broftor Abel gehaten
unscildigne mannan. So gehaten = ace. sing. masc. : 7. 18,
8. 20, 11. 9.

ASF. (1) : — 15. 44: he awrat ~Sa boc on his wraecsrSe
Apocalipsis gehaten.

ASN. (2) :— 7. 341&2: He arserde . . . Sset . . . tempel . . .
swa faegere getimbrod and swa fseste getrymmed ; 7. 35 :
oferworht.

II. WITH AN OBJECT (0).
No example.

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 207

JELFRIC'S HEPTATEUCH (99).
A.— THE PRESENT PARTICIPLE (61).

I. WITHOUT AN OBJECT (25). ,

1. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
appositive participle (15) : —

NSM. (9) : — Judges 4. 20 : gif her senig man cume acsi-
gende ernbe me = cum venerit aliquis interrogans te (or
pred. ?). — Gen. 19. 14: Da wses him geftuht, swilce he
gamnigende spraece = Et visus est eis quasi ludens loqui. —
Other examples : — ingangende = ingrediens : Deut. 28. 61,
191; Num. 22.34: nitende = nesciens ; Gen. 15. 17: smoci-
ende=famans (or attrib. ?); Num. 16. 48: standende =
stans ; utgangende = egrediens: Deut. 28. 62, 192.

NSN. (2) : — Ex. 2. 23 : Israela beam clypode geomriende
for ft am weorcum = ingemiscentes filii Israel propter opera
vociferati stint ; Job. 1.19: hreosende = corruens.

NPM. (3): — Judges 15. 14: urnon him togeanes ealle
hlydende= Et cum Philisthiim voeiferantes occurrissent ei (or
pred.?). — Other examples: — Ex. 1. 71: spryttende = germi-
nantes ; Num. 16. 18: standende = stantes.

NPN. (1) : — Gen. 8. 3 : Da wseteru fta gecirdon of -Ssere
eorftan ongean farende = ReversaBque sunt aquae de terra
euntes et redeuntes.

2. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
finite verb, which finite verb is usually subordinate or is in
immediate connection with an appositive participle (5) : —

NSM. (1) : — Gen. 22. 3 : Abraham *6a aras on ftsere ylcan
nihte and ferde mid twam cnapum to ftam fyrlenum lande
and Isaac samod on assum ridende = Igitur Abraham de
nocte consurgens stravit asinum suum, ducens secum duos
juvenes et Isaac filium suum abiit in locum.

NPM. (4) : — Num. 14. 45 : and hig micclum slogon and
ehtende adrifon = et percutiens eos atque occidens persecutus
est eos. — Other examples : — Num. 20. 30 : beweopon geomeri-

208 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

ende =flevit (there is an ap. ptc. in the sentence) ; Josh. 8.
16 : hrymdon ridende = vociferantes persecuti sunt eos; Job
2. 12* : hrymdon wepende = exclamantes ploraverunt.

3. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
prepositional phrase (1) : —

NSM. (1) :— Gen. 24. 63 : He code ut on «set land %en-
cende = Et egressus fuerat ad meditandum in agro.

4. An A.-S. appositive participle has no exact Latin
correspondence (4) : —

NSM. (2) :— Judges 4. 22 : acsigend (sic: cf. Judges 4. 20,
where acsigende = interrogans) (or pred. ?) ; Gen. 37. 35 :
wepende (cf. Gen. 37. 34, in which lugens occurs).

NPM. (2) :— Job 2. 121 : cumende; Josh. 7. 6 : licgende.

II. WITH AN OBJECT (36).

1. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
appositive participle (25) : —

NSM. (12) :— Gen. 1. 22 : And bletsode hig, Sus cweftende
= Benedixitque eis dicens. So cweftende = dieens : Gen. 2.
16, 8. 15, 17. 17; Ex. 3. 16, 5. 6; Deut. 32. 48, 34. 4.—
Other examples: — Job 1. 82: yfel forbugende = recedens a
malo; Job 1. 81 : ondrcedende = timens ; Job (Exposition),
p. 266, 1. 20 : secende = qucerens (for Latin cf. I. Peter 5.
8) ; Gen. 2. 6 : wcetriende = irrigans.

NSF. (5):— Gen. 18. 12: (Sarra) hloh digellice, «us
cweftende = Qua3 risit occulte, dicens. So cweftende = dicens .-
Gen. 15. 4 ; Num. 16. 41.— Other examples :— Num. 10. 33 :
sceawiende = providens ; secgende = dicens : Gen. 15. 1.

NSN. (1): — Judges 6. 7: Swa Israela folc $a earmlice
clipode to $am . . . gode, his helpes biddende = Et clamavit
Israel ad dominum, postulans auxilium.

NPM. (1): — Gen. 3. 5: ge beoiS Sonne englum gelice
witende segSer ge god ge yfel = et eritis sicut dii, scientes
bonum et malum.

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 209

ASF. (1): — Gen. 1. 12l: seo eoriSe for$ ateah growende
wirte and ssed berende be hire cinne = protulit terra herbam
virentem etfacientem semen juxta genus suum.

ASN. (4): — Gen. 1. II1*2: Spritte seo eorSe growende
gsers and saed wircende and seppebsere treow waestra wircende
aefter his cinne = Gerrainet terra herbam virentem etfacien-
tem semen et lignum pomiferum fatiens fructum juxta genus
suum; ib. Gen. 1. 122; Gen. 1. 123: hcebbende = habens.

APF. (1) : — Gen. 1. 29 : ic forgeaf eow call gsers and
wyrta seed berende ofer eor3an = dedi vobis omnem herbam
afferentem semen super terrain.

2. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
finite verb, which finite verb is usually either subordinate
or is in immediate connection with an appositive participle
(3):-

NSM. (1):— Deut. 4. 45 : . . . se, $e Moises foresette and
laga and domas, iSus cwefiende = . . . lex, quam proposuit
M., et . . . judicia quae locutus est.

NSF. (1) :— Josh. 10. 6 : Da sende seo burhwaru ... to
losue biddende 3a3t etc. = miserunt ad losue et dixerunt ei.

ASN. (1) :— Deut, 11. 25 : Ge . . . gehirdon his word, $us
cweftende = . . . et loeutus est vobis.

3. An A.-S. appositive participle has no exact Latin
correspondence (8) : —

NSM. (2) :— Judges (Epilogue), p. 264, 1. 14: gewilniende;
Judges 5. 32 (Exposition) : heriende.

NPM. (6):— Judges 5. 32 (Exposition): ahebbende; bid-
dende: Judges, Preface, 1. 10, 3. 15, 4. 3; Judges, Epilogue,
p. 265, 1. 15: Kanciende; Judges, Epilogue, p. 265, 1. 13:
wilniende.

B. — THE PRETERITE PARTICIPLE (38).
I. WITHOUT AN OBJECT (38).

1. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
appositive participle (11) : —

210 MORGAN CALL A WAY, JR.

NPM. (3) :— Num. 15. 44 : Hig swa Seah ablende beotlice
astigon = At illi contenebrati ascenderunt. — Other examples :
— Ex. 1. 72: gestrangode = roborati ; Num. 16. 33: ofhrorene
= operti.

ASM. (3) : — Gen. 22. 13 : geseah ftser anne raram betwux
•8am bremelum be 'Sam hornum gehceft = viditque . . .
arietem inter vepres hcerentem cornibus (or pred.?). — Other
examples : — Ex. 9. 24 : hagol wiiS fyr gemenged = mista ;
Ex. 29. 23 : gesprengedne = conspersce.

ASN. (2):— Ex. 12. 8: And eton ealle ««t fla3sc on fyre
gebrcedd— Et edent carnes nocte ilia assas igni : — Ex. 12.
9 : gesoden = coctum aqua.

APM. (1): — Levit. 2. 4: Bring claene ofenbacene hlafas
mid ele geasmirede = panes conspersos oleo.

APN. (2): — Ex. 31. 18: He sealde Moise twa stamene
wexbreda mid godes handa agrafene = duas tabulas lapideas
scriptas digito dei ; Gen. 41. 6 : forscruncene = percussae.

2. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
finite verb, which finite verb is usually subordinate or
is in immediate connection with an appositive participle

(i)=-

NSN. (1) : — Judges 16. 4 : Hine beswac swa iSeah si&San
an wif, Dalila gehaten = Post ha3c amavit mulierem, quce
vocabatur Dalila.

3. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
prepositional phrase (2) : —

NPM. (2) :— Ex. 12. 191*2: ne ete ge nan Sing onhafenes,
ne utan cymene ne innan lande geborene = tarn de advents
quam de indigenis terrae.

4. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
substantive in the ablative (1) : —

NSM. (1) : — Judges 13. 2 : An man wa3s eardigende on
Israhela Seode, Manue gehaten = Erat autem quidam vir
nomine Manue.

5. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
adjective (1) : —

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 211

NPM. (1) : — Ex. 4. 31 : and hig gebaedon hig to gode
nywel astrehte on eorSan = et proni adoraverunt.

6. An A.-S. appositive participle has no exact Latin
correspondence (22) : —

NSM. (5):— Num. 22. 27 : afirht (or pred.?); Judges 16.
5: bepceht ; Judges 4. 14: yebyld ; Judges 4. 17 : geegsod ;
Judges (Epilogue), p. 265, 1. 1 : gehaten.

NSF. (1):— Gen. 21. 6: ofwundrod.

NSN. (1) :— Num. 16. 34 : afirht.

NPM. (3):— Gen. 14. 10: afirhte ; Gen. 19. 1: asende ;
Judges 6. 2 : gewcehte.

DSM. (4) : — Judges 6. 1 : Sam . . . leodscipe Madian ge-
cweden; Judges 4. 2: sumura . . . cininge labin gehaten;
Judges 16. 23: heora gode, Dagon gehaten; Judges (Epi-
logue), p. 264, 1. 32: on -Sam miclan ea, Euf rates ge-
haten.

DSF. (1) : — Judges 16. 1 : to an re birig, Gaza gehaten.

DPM. (1) : — Judges 16. 7: mid seofon rapum of sinum
geworhte.

ASM. (6) : — Josh. 10. 33 : Sone ofterne kyning Hiram
gehaten. So : Judges 4. 6, 4. 7, 6. 14, 11. 1.— Gen. 19. 24 :
god sende . . . renscur mid swefle gemencged.

II. WITH AN OBJECT (0).
No example.

ANGLO-SAXON HOMILIES AND LIVES
OF SAINTS, I. (89).

A. — THE PRESENT PARTICIPLE (49).

I. WITHOUT AN OBJECT (25).

NSM. (5) : — 3. 105 : Be $am sang se witega $isum
wordum cweftende. So: 4. 41. — Other examples: — lybbende:
1. 87, 9. 195 ; 3. 78 : secgende iSisum wordum.

212 MORGAN OALLAWAY, JR.

NSF. (2): — 1. 24: Deos is seo halige Srynnys, $e ealle
"Sing gesceop, on anre godcundnysse sefre wunigende. — So :
3. 130.

NSN. (2) :— 3. 437 : Sum ... wif ... his fet aSwoh and
gelome hi cyste, licgende set his fotura ; 9. 80 : wunigende.

NPM. (11): — 6. 113: ... gif we her nu svf'mex&Jeohtende
mid geleafan wift leahtras. — Other examples : — 9. 357 : hty-
dende ; libbende: 7. 6, 9. 60; 9. 61 : swyltende; truwigende:
9. 88, 9. 3502; wunigende: 3. 132, 3. 527, 6. 66, 9. 133.

NPN. (1) :— 3. 324 : 3eah «e hi [= ma3denu] clame beon
on maagfthade lybbende.

NP. M. or F. (1) :— 3. 12 : lybbende.

DPM. (1) : — 7. 151 : [mete] heom a3lce dsege com edniwe
of heofenum xl wintra fyrst on 3am waBStene farende.

ASM. (1) : — 9. 330 : ac . . . he asende me ongean on his
sige blissigende and on eowre alysednysse.

APM. (1) :— 9. 103 : god hi «a gelsedde . . . ealle ofer $a
. . . see, siftigende be 'Sam grunde.

II. WITH AN OBJECT (24).

NSM. (4) : — 1. 304 : se . . . lareow Iserde us iSus cweftende. —
Other examples: — 4. 55: secende ; seegende: 3. 181, 3. 531.

NSF. (3) :— 8. 176 : heo . . . fseste, biddende set gode, "Sset
etc. — Other examples: — 9. 318: cweftende; 9. 417: *Seo-
wigende (w. dat.).

NSN. (2) :— 9. Ill : Bset godes folc $a code upp be "Sam
grunde, herigende heora drihten ; 3. 479 : singende.

NPM. (14) : — 5. 75 : reaferas urnon geond $a burh mete
gehwser secende. So : 9. 366. — Other examples : — 9. 82 :
abugende; biddende: 9. 59, 9. 72; 9. 162: cweftende; 1. 901
(foot-note) : fyligende (w. dat.)/ 7. 145: herigende; 1. 902
(foot-note): Icerende ; 2. 142: strynende ; fteowigende (w.
dat): 2. 185, 204, 220; 9. 451.

APM. (1): — 2. 117: lohannes . . . geseah Crist standan
and "Soue clsenan flocc mid him, hundteontig ftusenda and

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 213

feower and feowertig ftusenda, swrSe hlude singende $one
heofonlican sang.

B. — THE PRETERITE PARTICIPLE (40).

I. WITHOUT AN OBJECT (40).

NSM. (13) : — 1. 67 : he us alysde . . . mid his agenum
deafte, on rode ahangen. — Other examples : — 7. 28 : awend ;
gehaten: 5. 9; 8. 2, 78, 127; 9. 193; 8. 268: gehathyrt; 9.
194 : gelyfed; 7. 23 : ifcestnod; ihalen: 7. 214, 287 ; 7. 288 :
ilyfed.

NSF. (3) :— 9. 207 : heo fa3ste symle buton on freolsdagum,
mid haarau gescryd to hire lice a3fre. — Other examples : — 7.
61 : aftwogen ; 3. 27 : gesceapen.

NSN. (4) :— 3. 349 : lacobes wif, Rachel geciged, twentig
wintra wunode etc. — Other examples: — 3. 334: gehaten;

8. 149: tostenced ; 3. 95: ungewemmed.

NPM. (11) :— 1. 43, 44 : hi forleton his hlafordscipe ealle
swy$e unwislice, fram him ascyrede mid andan afyttede. So
afyttede: 8. 110. — Other examples : — 1. 81 : arcerde ; 9. 58 :
fornumene; 9. 2: gecweden; 3. 293: gelcerede; 3. 295:
gemartirode; 3. 38 : ofslagene (or pred. ?); 2. 213 : onbryrde;

9. 69 : ymbtrymde.

NPF. (1) :— 7. 302 : Twa bee beo$ isette . . . machabeorum
ihatene.

DSM. (1) : — 3. 25 : And eac his godcundnyss wses on tore
menniscnysse to anum softan Criste of hyre acenned, sefre
unbegunnen on tore godcundnysse.

DSF. (1) : — 2. 114: on his gastlican gesihfte, Apocalipsis
gehaten.

DSN. (1) :— 3. 362 : mid his wife, Elisabeth genamod.

ASM. (4) :— 3. 332 : behet, tot hi habban sceoldon sunu,
Isaac gehaten. So : 9. 46 ; ihaten : 7. 49, 292.

ASF. (1) : — 9. 9 : towa3nde se cyning heora . . . burh,
Hierusalem gehaten.

214 MORGAN CALL A WAY, JR.

II. WITH AN OBJECT (0).
No example.

ANGLO-SAXON HOMILIES AND LIVES
OF SAINTS, II. (22).

A. — THE PRESENT PARTICIPLE (16).

I. WITHOUT AN OBJECT (11).

NSM. (2) :— 15. 353 : ic hit unwillende do ; 10. 90 :
scamiende.

NSF. (6):— 18. 25: swilce heo dweliende Syder come.
So: 18. 29. — Other examples: — 10. 181: geomriende ; we-
pende: 10. 100, 10. 180; 18. 32: woperiende.

NPF. (1) : — 15. 51 : hire fostermoder hi het gan mid
o*$rum fsemnum on feld, sceap to hawienne, and hi swa
dydo[n] spinnende.

APM. (2):— 15. 2421&2: Sume ic slcepende beswac and
sume eac wacigende = 1 9. 265 : Et cum dormiunt, venio
super eos et excito illos a somno.

II. WITH AN OBJECT (5).

JSTSM. (4):— 15. 52: Da ferde Olibrius to Anthiochiam,
axiende etc. ; eweftende: 18. 57, 80, 109.

DSM. (1) : — 11. 16 : Audiens ex ore meo sermonem meum,
adnuntiabis eis ex me, non ex te. Dset is on urum geiSeode :
Of minum mu'Se gehlystendum [for gehlystende by attraction
to mvfie ?] $u bodast hym mine spra3ce of me, nees of -5e.

B. — THE PRETERITE PARTICIPLE (6).

I. WITHOUT AN OBJECT (5).

NSM. (1) : — 15. 12 : wses sum hseften cyningc, Theodosius
gehaten.

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 215

NSF. (1): — 15. 44: heo cwseft : ic com -Sin Seowa [sic/]
clsena and ungewcemmed.

NSN. (1): — 16. 55: big hym dryncan sealdon, -Sset w«s
wyn and eced gemenged togsedere.

NPM. (1): — 12. 45: hwiluru willes, hwilum geneadode
gewuniaft of to drincanne.

ASF. (1) : — 15. 45 : De ic me betaBce ungewcemmode.

II. WITH AN OBJECT (1).

NSM. (1): — 17. 23: ic earn of Grecane rice and ic of
ludean waes, 3an Pontisscen Pilate underfteodd.

Note: Latin P.articiples. — Latin participles occur in 11. 16
(quoted under dative above), in 13. 13 (sciens = $a wiste se
hselend), in 13. 59 (sciens = He wiste), and in 18. 68 (et
videns filium etc. = no A.-S. equivalent). Again in no. 19,
which is entirely in Latin and which is the basis, though not
the literal equivalent, of no. 15 (Anglo-Saxon), about 55
appositive participles occur ; but, as no one of these is trans-
lated by an appositive participle in Old English, it seems
unnecessarv to cite them.

GOSPELS1 (280).

A.— THE PRESENT PARTICIPLE (237).
I. WITHOUT AN OBJECT (115).

1. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
appositive participle (107) : —

NSM. (52) :— L. 23. 5a & b : he astyrafl Sis folc, Icerende 3urh
ealle iudeam agynnende of [galilea o$ hyder] = Commovet
populum docens per universam Judeam, ineipiens a Galilaea
usque hue. — Other examples : — L. 23. 14: ahsiende = inter-
rogans ; L. 24. 12a: alutende = procumbens ; andswari(g)mde
= respondent : Mat. 11. 25, 20. 13; Mk. 9. 12, 10. 24, 11.
22, 13. 5, 14. 48 ; Luke: 4. 12, 5. 5, 5. 22, 7. 40, 13. 2, 14.

216 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

5, 15. 29, 17. 17 ; Mk. 1. 35 : arisende = surgens ; L. 5. 3a :
astigende = adscendens; Mk. 7. 34 : behealdende = suspiciens;
L. 3. 18 : bodigende = exhortans ; Mk. 1.7: bugende = pro-
cumbens; clypiende = damans : Mk. 15. 39, L. 23. 46a; ib.
= exdamans: Mk. 1. 26b ; Mat. 12. 44 : cumende = veniens ;
Mk. 9. 20 : fcemende = spumans ; Mat. 4. 9 : feallende =
cadens ; gangende = ambulans : Mat. 14. 25 (or precl.?),
Mk. 6. 48 (or pred. ?) ; ib. = transiens, L. 12. 37 ; L. 15. 5 :
geblissiende = gaudens ; Mk. 1. 31 : genealcecende — aecedens;
hrymende = damans : Mk. 5. 5 (or pred.?), 5. 7; ib. = ex-
damans : Mk. 9. 26a, L. 8, 28 ; ingan(c)gende = ingressus :
Mk. 1. 21, L. 1. 28; Icerende = docens : Mat. 4. 23, 9. 35a,
Mk. 12. 35; L. 17. 24: lyhtende = coruscans ; L. 5. 3b :
sittende = sedens; Mk. 7. 33 : spcetende — exspuens; L. 4. 39 :
standende = stans ; Mk. 15. 30: stigende = deseendens ; L.
1. 78: upspringende = oriens ; utgangende = egressus : Mk.
1. 45, L. 4. 42.

NSF. (3) : — L. 2. 38 : And $eos S^ere tide becumende
drihtne andette = Et hsec, ipsa hora superveniens, confite-
batur Domino. — Other examples: — L. 2. 19 : smeagende =
conferens ; L. 2. 37 : fteowigende = serviens.

NSN. (4):— Mk. 5. 33a&b: Dset wif «a ondrcedende &
forktigende com & astrehte hi = Mulier vero timens et tremens
. . . venit etprocidit; gangende = introiens : Mk. 7. 15, 7. 18.

NPM. (30) : — Mk. 15. 31 : heahsacerdas bysmriende be-
twux $am bocerum cwa3don = sacerdotes illudentes . . .
dicebant. — Other examples : — Mk. 7. 1 : cumende = venientes;
L. 22. 65 : dysigende = blasphemantes ; L. 2. 1 6 : efstende =
festinantes; Mk. 16. 20: farende = profedi ; gangende =
intrantes, Mat. 2. 11 ; ib. = incedentes, L. 1. 6 ; gehyrende =
audientes: Mat. 13. 13b, Mk. 4. 12b, L. 8. 10b ; geseonde
= videntes: Mk. 4. 12a, L. 8. 10a; Mk. 11. 24 : gyrnende =
orantes; Mat. 9. 27: hrymynde = damantes; Mat. 12. 45:
ingangende = intrantes ; Mat. 5. 11 : leogende — mentientes ;
lociende — videntes : Mat. 13. 13% 13. 14; L. 2. 48: sari-
gende = dolentes ; Mat. 27. 36: sittende = sedentes ; Mat. 17.

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 217

3 : sprecende = loquentes; Mat. 6. 5 : standende = stantes ;
Mk. 6. 32: stigende = adscendentes ; L. 5. 5 : swincende =
laborantes ; utgangende (utgangynde) = exeuntes : Mat. 8. 28,
9. 31, Mk. 3. 6, 6. 12 ; L. 20. 26 : wundrigende = mirati ;
L. 22. 44 : yrnende = decurrentis.

NPN. (1) :— Mat. 8. 32 : hig [= $a deofla] $a utgangende
ferdon on $a swin = At illi exeuntes abierunt in porcos.

NDM. (1): — L. 24. 17: hwset synt $a spa3ca $e gyt
recceaiS inc betwynan gangendef = Qui sunt hi sermones
quos confertis ad invicem ambulantes?

GPM. (1):— L. 18. 7 : SoSlice ne de$ God his gecorenra
wrace clypiendra to him daBges & nihtes = Deus autem non
faciet vindictam electorum suorum damantium ad se die
ac nocte.

GPN. (1) : — L. 8. 32 : And ftar WOBS micel heord swyna
on "Sam munte Icesiendra = Erat . . . grex porcorum . . .
pascentium in monte.

DSN. (1) : — Mat. 13. 47b : Eft is heofena rice gelic asendum
nette on $a see & of a3lcum fisc-cynne gadrigendum =
Iterum simile est regnum cselorum sagenae missa3 in mare, et
ex omni genere piscium congreganti.

DPM. (5) : — L. 6. 17 : And mid him farendum he stod
on feldlice stowe = Et descendens cum illis stetit in loco
campestri. [Or shall we emend farendum to farende in
accordance with the Latin ?] — Other examples : — Mk. 9. 42 :
gelyfendum = credentibus ; Mk. 16. 10ft : heofendum = lugen-
tibus; Mat. 11. 16: sittendum = sedentibus ; Mk. 16. 10b :
wependum =flentibus.

DPN. (2):— L. 7. 32a&b: Hi sint gelice cildum on strate
sittendum & specendum betwux him = Similes sunt pueris
sedentibus in foro, et loquentibus ad invicem.

ASM. (4) : — Mk. 15. 21 : & genyddon sumne wegferendne
simonem cireneum cumende of -Sam tune . . . $a3t he etc. =
Et angariaverunt pratereuntem quempiam, Simonem Cyre-
na3iim venientem de villa etc. — Other examples : — J. 1.9:

218 MORGAN CALL AW AY, JR.

cumendne = venientem; L. 17. 7a : eregendne = arantem;
Mat. 9. 2 : licgende =jacentem.

ASN. (1):— L. 6. 38b : god gemet & full geheapod and
oferflowende hig syllaft = mensuram, bonam . . . et superef-
fluentem dabunt.

APM. (1) : — Mat. 4. 24 : yfelhcebbende = male habentes.

2. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
finite verb, which finite verb is usually subordinate or
is in immediate connection with an appositive participle
(2):-

NSM. (2) :— Mk. 11. 17 : & he «a Icerende «us cwseS =
Et docebat, dicens eis. — Mat. 26. 27a : And he genam ftone
calic ftaneiende & sealde hym ftus cweftende = Et accipiens
calicem, gratias egit, et dedit illis, dicens.

3. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
gerund in the ablative (2) : —

NSM. (2) :— L. 15. 13 : & forspilde $ar his jehta, lybbende
on his gffilsan = et ibi dissipavit substantiam suam vivendo
luxuriose; — L. 12. 25 : ftencende = cogitando.

4. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
prepositional phrase (1): —

NSM. (1) : — Mk. 9. 24 : wepende cwasft = cum lacrymis
aiebat.

5. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
ablative absolute clause (1) : —

NSM. (1) : — L. 6. 20 : Da cwa3$ se hselend beseonde to
his leorning-cnihtum = Et ipse elevatis oeulis in discipulos
suos, dicebat.

6. An A.-S. appositive participle has no Latin corre-
spondence (2) : —

NSM. (1) : — Mk. 5. 40 : He ... ineode swigende (Hat.
MS.) "5ar "Sset mseden wses = Ipse . . . iugreditur ubi etc.

NSF. (1):— L. 2. 51 : And his modor geheold ealle $as
word on hyre heortan smeagende = Et mater ejus conservabat
omnia verba in corde suo. [Cf. L. 2. 19, where smeagende =
confer ens.]

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 219

II. WITH AN OBJECT (122).

1. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
appositive participle (117) : —

NSM. (57):— Mk. 1. 41 : & his hand aSenode & nine
cethrinende [Hat. MS. sethrinede] & iSus cwa3$ = extendit
manum suara, et langens eum, ait illi. — Mat. 10. 5a : Das
twelf se h. sende, him bebeodende = Hos duodecira misit J.,
prcecipiens eis. — L. 3. 3 : he com into call iordanes ricse
bodiende dsedbote fulluht & synna forgyfenesse = venit in
omnem regionem lordanis, prcedicans baptismum poenitentia}
in remissionem peccatortim (or pred.?). So bodi(g)ende= prce-
dicans in : Mat. 9. 35b, Mk. 1.14 (or pred. ?) ; = evangelizans
in L. 8. lb (or pred. ?).— Mat. 9. 18: & ge-ea$medde hyne
to him, ftus cweftende = et adorabat eum, dicens. So cwefiende
(cwe$ynde) = dicens in : Mat. 8. 6, 9. 29, 9. 30, 10. 5b, 13. 3,
13. 31, 26. 27b, 26. 44, 27. 11; Mk. 1. 15 (or pred.?), 9. 25;
L. 23. 46 ; J. 1. 15, 1. 32.— Other examples :— L. 5. 13 (MS.
A) : aftenigende = extendens ; behealdende = circumspiciens,
Mk. 3. 34; ib. =intuitii8, Mk. 10. 21 ; Mk. 14. 13 : berende
= bajulans; Mk. 3. 5a : besceawiende = circumspiciens; Mk.
10. 23: beseonde nine = circumspiciens (without object); —
biddende = rogans, Mat. 8. 5; ib. = deprecans, Mk. 1. 40;
bletsiende = benedicens, Mk. 14. 22, L. 1. 64; Mk. 5. 5:
ceorfende = concidens (or pred. ?) ; J. 6. 6 : fandigende his =
tentans eum ; Mk. 8. 13 : forlcetende = dimittens ; Mat. 9. 12 :
gehyrende = audiens ; geseonde = videns, Mk. 9. 15a, L. 1.
12 (no obj. in Latin); L. 14. 7 : gymende = intendens ; hceb-
bende = habens : Mk. 3. 1, 9. 47, L. 4. 33, 7. 8b; Mat. 9.
35°: hcelende = curans ; L. 17. 15: mcersiende = magnifi-
cans; L. 4. 40 : onsettende = imponens; L. 8. la : prediciende
= prcedicans (or pred.?); secende = qucerens : Mat. 12. 43,
L. 11. 24, 13. 7 (or pred.?);— L. 3. 16: secgende = dicens ;
Mk. 10. 16 : seltende = imponens ; slitende = discerpens, Mk.
1. 26a, 9. 26b; ib. = scindens, Mk. 14. 63; L. 10. 30: upbe-
seonde hine = suscipiens (no object) ; L. 18. 43 : wuldrigende

220 MOKGAN CALLAWAY, JB.

= magnificans ; L. 24. 12b : wundrigende iSses = mirans
quod (or pred.?).

NSF. (4):— Mat. 20. 20a&b: Da com to him zebedeis
bearna modor mid hyre bearnum hig ge-eadmedende & sum
iSingc fram him biddende = Tune accessit . . . mater, adorans
et petens aliquid ab eo. — Other examples: — J. 11. 28: cwe-
%ende = dicens ; Mk. 3. 8 : gehyrende = audientes.

NSN. (3) : — L. 2. 23 : iSset selc warned gecynd-lim
ontynende by$ drihtne halig genemned = Quia omne mascu-
linum adaperiens vulvam, sanctum Domino vocabitur. —
Other examples: — Mk. 7. 19 : clcensigende = purgans ; L. 7.
29a : gehyrende = audiens.

NPM. (36):— Mk. 1. 5: & wteron . . . gefullode . . .,
hyra synna andetende (MS. A.) = et baptizabantur . . ., con-
fitentes peccata sua. — Other examples : — Mk. 6. 55 : befarende
= percurrentes ; Mk. 2. 3: berende = ferentes (or pred.?);
L. 24. 53b: bletsigende = benedicentes (or pred.?); Mat. 19.
3 : costnigende hine = tentantes eum ; — cweftende = dicentes in :
Mat. 6. 31, 8. 25, 9. 27, 10. 7, 10. 12, 12. 10, 12. 38, 27. 23,
27. 29, Mk. 3. 11, J. 11. 31 ;— demende = judicantes : Mat.
19. 28, L. 22. 30 (or both pred.?); fandi(g)ende his = tentantes
eum: Mk. 10. 2, J. 8. 6 ; L. 24. 52: gebiddende = orantes
(no obj. in Latin); L. 6. 35: gehihtende = sperantes ; ge-
hyrende = audientes: L. 4. 28, 8. 15 ; L. 20. 11 : gewcecende
= qfficientes; Mk. 7. 3 : healdende = tenentes; heriende (her-
gende) = laudantes : L. 2. 20b (or pred. ?), 24. 53a (or pred. ?) ;
L. 20. 47 : hiwgende = simulantes ; secende = qucerentes : Mat.
12. 46, 12. 47, L. 11. 54 ; ib. = requirentes: L. 2. 45 ; Mk. 7.
13: toslitende = rescindentes; L. 23. 10: wregende = aecusantes
(or pred.?); L. 2. 20a : wuldriende = glorificantes (or pred.?).

NPF. (3) : — Mat. 9. 33 : $a menigeo wundredon cweftende
= miratse sunt turbse, dicentes. — Other examples: — Mat. 15.
31a: geseonde = videntes ; Mat. 15.30: hcebbende = habentes.

NPN. (4):— Mat. 8. 31: Sa deofla soSlice hyne.bffidon,
•Sus cweftende = DaBmones autem rogabant eum, dicentes. So
cweftende = dicentia in L. 4. 41b. — Other examples : L. 4.

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 221

41a: hrymende= damantia ; Mat. 27. 55 : ftenigende him =
ministrantes ei.

NP. M. or N. (1) :— L. 23. 49 : cirSan & wif geseonde =
videntes.

NDM. (1):— Mk. 11. 5: Hwset do gyt Sone folan wn£i-
<?encZe ? = Quid facitis solventes pullum ?

DSM. (2) : — L. 6. 48 : He ys gelic timbriendum men his
hus=Similis est homini cedificanti domum. Cf. L. 6. 49:
He is gelic ftam timbriendan men his hus ofer $a eoriSan =
similis est homini cedificanti domum etc.

DPN. (1) :— L. 7. 32° : Hi synt gelice cildum . . . cweSen-
dum = Similes sunt pueris . . . dicentibus.

ASM. (5) : — Mat. 8. 17 : <Sset waere gefylled ftaet gecweden
is iSurh esaiam iSone witegan, ft us cweftende = Ut adimplere-
tur quod dictum est per Isaiam prophetam, dieentem. So
cweftende = dicentem in Mat. 12. 17, 27. 9. — Other examples :
— Mk. 9. 17 : hcebbende = habentem ; L. 17. 7b : lcesgendne =
pascentem.

2. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
finite verb, which finite verb is generally either subordinate
or in immediate connection with an appositive participle
(3):-

NSM. (1) :— Mat. 14. 19 : beseah on Sone heofon & bletsi-
gende brsec $a hlafas = adspiciens in coelum benedixit et
fregit . . . panes.

NSF. (1) : — L. 18. 5 : Se-lses heo set neahstan curae me
behropende = ne in novissimo veniens sugillet me (or pred. ?).

NPM. (1) : — Mk. 9. 15b : & hine gretende him to urnon =
et accurrentes salutabant eum.

3. An A.-S. appositive participle has no Latin corre-
spondence (2) : —

NSM. (1) :— Mat. 22. 35 : axode hyne & fandode hys $us
cweftende = Et interrogavit eum unus ex eis legis doctor,
ten tans eum.

NSF. (1):— J. 12. 28: Da com stefn of heofone
cwefoende = Venit ergo vox de coelo.
6

222 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JB.

B. — THE PRETERITE PARTICIPLE (43).
I. WITHOUT AN OBJECT (36).

1. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
appositive participle (34) : —

NSM. (14) : — Mk. 14. 51 : Sum iungling him fyligde mid
anre scytan bewcefed nacod & hi namon hine = Adolescens
autem quidam sequebatur eum amictus sindone super nudo. —
Mk. 5. 30 : he cwseft bewend to ~3a3re menigu = conversus ad
turbam aiebat. So bewend = conversus: L. 7. 9, 10. 23, 14.
25, 23. 28. — Other examples : — Mk. 9. 20 : forgnyden =
elisus; Mk. 5. 4: gebunden = vinctus; Mat. 2. 22 : gemynegod
= admonitus ; gesett = constitutus: Mat. 8. 9, L. 7. 8a; Mk.
3. 5b : geunret = contristatus ; L. 22. 32 : gewend = conversus;
Mat. 25. 25 : ofdrced = timens (or pred. ?).

NSF. (1) : — Mat. 14. 8 : Da cwseft heo fram hyre meder
gemyngod = At ilia prcemonita a matre sua . . . inquit.

NSN. (2) :— L. 11.17: JElc rice on hyt sylf todceled by$
toworpen = Onine regnum in se ipsum divisum desolabitur. —
L. 10. 15 : upahafen = exaltata.

NPM. (5): — L. 1. 74: $set we butan ege of ure feonda
handa alysede him fteowian = Ut sine timore, de manu . . .
Uberati, serviamus illi. — Other examples : — gefullode (gefuttede)
= baptizati, L. 7. 29b, 7. 30 ; L. 9. 31 : gesewene = visi ; Mat.
7. 6 : gewende = conversi.

NPN. (1) :— Mat. 26. 47 : $a com iudas ... & micel folc
mid hym mid swurdum & sahlum asende fram . . . ealdrum
= ecce Judas . . . venit, et cum eo turba multa cum gladiis
et fustibus, missi a principibus etc.

DSN. (1) : — Mat. 13. 47a : Eft is heofena rice gelic asendum
nette on $a sse = Iterum simile est regnum co3lorum sagense
missce in mare.

ASM. (7): — Mk. 16. 6: ge secaft 3sene nazareniscan hae-
lend ahangenne = Jesum quseritis Nazarenum, crucifixum. —
Other examples : — Mat. 27. 37 : awritenne = scriptam ; Mk.

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 223

15. 17: awundenne = p ledentes ; Mk. 15. 15: beswungenne
= ccesum ; L. 23. 16 : gebetne = emendatum; Mat. 27. 16 :
gehceftne = vinctum ; L. 7. 25 : gescryddne = indutum.

ASF. (1):— L. 22. 12: he eow beta;c$ mycele healle
gedcefte = ipse ostendet vobis coenaculum magnum stratum.

ASN. (2) : — L. 6. 38 : god gemet & full geheapod ... big
syllaft = mensuram bonam, et confertam et coagitatam . . .
dabunt ; Mat. 27. 34 : gemenged = mixtum.

2. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
finite verb, which finite verb is usually subordinate or in
immediate connection with an appositive participle (1) : —

ASM. (1): — L. 20. 15: hig hine of "Sam wingearde
awurpon ofslegene = ejectum ilium extra vineam occiderunt.

3. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
adjective (1) : —

NSF. (1):— L. 1. 28: hal wes «u mid gyfe gefylled =
Ave, gratia plena (or subst. ?).

II. WITH AN OBJECT (7).

1. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
appositive participle (7) : —

NSM. (1) :— Mk. 9. 31 : & ofslagen $am Sriddan dsege
he arist = et occisus tertia die resurget.

DSF. (1) : — L. 1. 27: wses asend gabriel ... to bewed-
dudre faBmnan anum were ftses nama wses iosep = ... ad
virginem desponsatam viro cui nomen erat J.

ASM. (3): — Mat. 11. 8: ofrSe hwi code ge ut geseon
mann hnescum gyrlum gescrydne ? = Sed quid existis videre?
hominem mollibus vestitum? So gescrydne = indutum: L. 23.
11 ; Mk. 16. 5 : oferwrohne = co-opertum.

ASN. (1) : — Mat. 11.7: Hwi eode ge ut on wesften geseon
winde awegyd hreod ? = Quid existis in desertum videre ?
arundinem vento agitatamf

APM. (1):— Mat. 4. 24: hi brohton him ealle yfel-
haebbende, missenlicum adlum & on tintegrum gegripene =

224 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

obtulerunt ei omnes male habentes, variis languoribus et
tormentis comprehensos.

Note : Examples of Participles hitherto cited as Appositive.

A. Erdmann (p. 26) considers bebeodende appositive in
Matthew 11.1 (hyt wees geworden ft a se hcelynd %ys ge-endude
hys twelf leorning-cnihtum bebeodende he for ftanun =factum
est, quum consummasset Jesus prcecipiens duodecim discipulis
suis, transiit inde), and that ftys is the object of bebeodende;
while Matzner (in., p. 70) and March (§ 458) seem to hold
that the participle here is used substantivally and is the
object of ge-endude. To me, however, neither of these views
seems tenable ; I take %ys to be the object of bebeodende and
the participle to be used predicatively after the intransitive
verb of ending, as is common in Greek (cf. Goodwin, Gr.
Grammar, § 1578) and as occurs in the Greek of this verse.

Again, Erdrnann (p. 28) holds that gangende is appositive
in Z/uke 9. 34 (hi ondredon him gangende on ftcet genip = tim-
uerunt, intrantibus ittis in nubem) • but, as I have since tried
to show (Abs. Ptc. in A.-S., p. 13), the participle is more
probably a crude absolute dative.

According to Erdmann (p. 28) ahsiende is possibly apposi-
tive in Mark 9. 32 (hi adredon hine ahsiende = timebant
interrogare eum), while Matzner (in., p. 70) and March
(§ 458) appear to look upon ahsiende as the substantival
object of adredon. For several reasons, however, I believe
that ahsiende is to be emended to ahsienne, which latter is the
infinitive object of adredon. (1) We know that this confu-
sion] of infinitive and participial forms occurs in the Gospels
(cf. above Mk. 1. 5, where I give MS. A.'s andetende instead
of the Corpus anddetenne). (2) We find the verb ondrcedan
governing an inflected infinitive as direct object (cf. Mat. 1.
20, 2. 22, both cited by Erdmann). (3) ahsienne would
correspond better with the infinitive of the Latin (and
Greek) than would ahsiende.

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 225

In Luke 9. 55, Professor Bright, following MSS. B. and
C., reads : hine bewend, he hig ftreade (= conversus increpavit
ittos), in which case bewend would be appositive. But, as we
have no other instance in the Gospels of the past participle
(bewend) governing an accusative, it seems better to read,
with the remaining MSS., bewende (bewente).* The Lindisfarne
and Rushworth Glosses likewise have a finite verb here. For
the other occurrences of bewend in the Gospels, see NSM.
under B, I., 1 above.

WULFSTAN (28).
A. — THE PRESENT PARTICIPLE (9).

I. WITHOUT AN OBJECT (3).

NSM. (1) : — 244. 7a : $a3t is fseder and sunu and halig
gast and is an soft god rixigende and gemende ealra his
gesceafta a butan ende.

NPM. (1) : — 295. 14 : hi sculon fleonde on gefeohte beon
ofslagene.

NPN. (1) :— 236. 26 : and $a deoflu wendon sceamigende
aweg.

II. WITH AN OBJECT (6).

NSM. (5):— 199. 15: be $am awrat lohannes . . . $us
cweftende. Ib. 201. 8, 246. 11, both immediately before a
Latin quotation. [Only one other example of cweftende
occurs in Wulfstan (see 105. 30 under NPM.). Wulfstan
translates dicens (dicentes) twice by a co-ordinated finite verb
(60. 14, 87. 15) and once by a subordinated finite verb (87.
18), while twice he leaves it untranslated (31. 32, 77. 3).]—
244. 7b : ftset is fseder and sunu and halig gast and is an soft

* The past participle must however certainly be allowed to govern the
accusative. I should still regard hine bewend as a servile translation of
conversus, and the readings of Corp. and A. as representing steps in
revision.— J. W. B.

226 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

god rixigende and gemende ealra his gesceafta a butan ende. —
278. 9 : and on ftam eahtoiSan dsege manna gehwylc ham
ferde mid fulre blisse gode selmihtigum ftancjende ftsere
mserSe (or predicative?).

NPM. (1) : — 105. 30 : we hine senne ofer ealle o^re Sing
lufja*$ and wurSjaft mid gewissum geleafan cweftende etc.

B. — THE PRETERITE PARTICIPLE (19).

I. WITHOUT AN OBJECT (15).

NSM. (2):— 25. 19: se «e Same bryne «urhf»r« unbe-
seneged (or pred. ?) ; 26. 7 : gemencged (or pred.?).

NPM. (7):— 133. 5a&b: and ge tofesede swrSe afirhte oft
litel werod earhlice forbugaft = 131. 23 : et animam uestram
tabescentem faciam, et persequentur uos inimici uestri, et
fugietis nullo persequente. — 137. 18: and we beoft him
ftonne fseringa beforan brohte seghwanon cumene to his
ansyne. — Other examples: — gehadode (gehadede) : 160. 1, 181.
29/272. 21, 292. 30.

ASF. (5):— 263. 4, 5, 6a&b: Seah «e *a mihtegestan and
"Sa ricestan hatan him reste gewyrcan of marmanstane and mid
goldfraBtwum and mid gimcynnum eal astcened and mid seol-
frenum ruwum and godwebbe call oferwrigen and mid deor-
wyrSurn wyrtgemengnessum eal gestreded and mid goldleafum
gestrewed ym butan ; 163. 6 : gewylede.

AP. M. or F. (1): — 46. 7 : wa eow, he cwseS, $e lecgaft
togaedere hamas and sehta on unriht begytene on seghwilce
healfe.

II. WITH AN OBJECT (4).

NSM. (1) : — 48. 3 : and forSam he sceal drefan dimne and
deopne hellewites grand, helpes bedceled.

NPM. (3):— 256. 12a-b'c: ac gewitaS fram me, wuldre
bedcelede, freondum afyrede, feondum betcehte in "Sam hatan
wylme hellefyres.

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 227

Note: Latin Participles in Wulfstan. — Thirty-four Latin
participles occur in Wulfstan. Of these, twelve are untrans-
lated (adorantes, 175. 14; audientes (twice), 42. 29, 47. 12;
dieens (twice), 31. 32, 77. 3; egressus, 87. 10; eleuatus, 31.
19; placentem, 31. 28; reatus, 63. 12; respondens, 87. 12;
scribentes, 43. 9; sumentes, 30. 12); twelve are translated by
a subordinated finite verb (aceedens, 29. 11; agnoscens, 29.
15; audiens, 190. 11; dicentes, 87. 18; fallens, 50. 19;
habentes, 43. 15b; ponentes (twice), 42. 25, 26; sevens, 248.
9; sper antes (twice), 43. 15, 48. 6 ; tabescentes, 131. 30); and
nine are translated by a co-ordinated finite verb (dans, 29.
21; dieens (twice), 60. 14, 87. 15 ; faciens, 248. 10; re-
spondens (respondentes) (thrice), 62. 3, 67. 23, 87. 16 ; reuer-
tentes (twice), 44. 5, 49. 17).

BENET1 (142).
A. — THE PRESENT PARTICIPLE (103).

I. WITHOUT AN OBJECT (40).

1 . An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
appositive participle (35) : —

NSM. (12): — 95. 10: niwan cumende (text: cumenne)
senig to gecyrrednesse ne si him eftelic forgifen infsereld =
Noviter veniens quis ad conversionem non ei facilis tribuatur
ingressus. So cumende = veniens : 80. 6, 95. 13. — Other
examples : — 4. 8 : forseonde = respuens ; 36. 2b : gangende =
ambulans; 116. 15: gebetende = satisfaciens ; 114. 14: ge-
truwigende = confidens ; 69. 5 : ingangende = ingrediens ;
68. 1 : luficende = diligens ; 36. 2a : sittende = sedens ; 36.
2C: standende = stans ; 57. 3b : fturhwunigende = persistens.

NSF. (1) : — 2. 11 : utan gehyran . . . dipiende hwset us
myngie stefn = audiamus . . . damans quid nos ammo-
neat vox.

NSN. (1) : — 9. 16 : $8et forme mynstermanna ftaet is
mynsterlic campiende under regule o$$e abbude = Prim urn

228 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

coenobitarum hoc est monasteriale militans sub regula vel
abbate.

NPM. (13) : — 55. 7 : arisende softlice to godes weorce . . .
gemedlice tihtan o'Sfte laran = Surgentes vero ad opus dei
invicem se moderate cohortent. So arisende (ariscende) =
surgentes: 55. 4, 81. 16.— Other examples :— 24. 12:
droh(ti)gende = degentes ; 106. 11: forahrcedigende = pre-
venientes ; 24. 1 lb : gangende = ambulantes ; gecyrrende =
revertentes : 92. 14, 93. 2; 24. 10: libbende — viventes; 6.
12: fturhwunigende = perseverantes ; utgangende = exeuntes :
75. 5b, 81. 12, 93. 1.

NP. M. or F. (1) : — 45. 7 : gebyriende = pertinentes.

Note. — utgangendum (in 66. 15 : $a utgangendum = egre-
dientes) is either absolute or substantive; in the latter case
read fta utgangendan.

GSM. (1) : — 25. 10 : se $e heortan his besceawaft ceoriendes
= qui cor ejus respicit murmurantis.

GPM. (2) : — 69. 1 : meosan etenda gebroiSrum (read ge-
broftra) rsedinc wana beon na scell = Mensis fratrum edentium
lectio deesse non debet; 78. 12 : utgangendre = exeuntium.

DSM. (1) : — 13. 9 : ftset ahwenne him na secge syngendum
= nequando illi dicat deus peccanti.

DPM. (1) : — 118. 10: us asolcenum 3 yfel lybbendum y
gimeleasum scame gescyndnysse = nobis autem . . . male
viventibus . . . rubor confusionis est.

APM. (2):— 21. 7: getfohtas $a yfelan heortan his to
becumende (text becumenne) sona to christe aslidan = Cogita-
tiones malas cordi suo advenientes mox ad christum allidere.
So cumende = advenientes : 33. 5.

2. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
adjective (2) : —

NSM. (1) : — 61. 6 : hordere si gecoren of gegsederunge wis
. . . na upahafen [blank] drefende = Cellarius . . . eligatur
de congregatione sapiens . . . non elatus non turbulentus.

NPM. (1): — 11. 2 : $a . . . cumlrSiaft sefre worigende y
nsefre sta^olfseste = qui . . . hospitantur semper vagi et
nunquam stabiles.

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 229

3. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
gerund in the ablative (3) : —

NSM. (3): — 61. 11 : forseonde hine he ne gedrefe = non
spernendo eum contristet. [Of. Benedict1 54. 14: he fteah
mid forseawennesse hine ne geunrotsige.] — 114. 10a&b: his
unacumenlicnesse se $e gewis [blank] •} gedafenlice [blank]
na modigende [text : modigenne] o&5e wiftstandende [blank]
= impossibilitatis sue causas ei qui sibi preest patienter et
oportune suggerat, non superbiendo aut resistendo vel con-
tradicendo. [Cf. Benedict1 128. 15, 16: Sset he eft mid
geftylde on gedafenre tide his msegenleaste his ealdre gecySe,
he no $eah na wiftstande, ne mid modignesse ne wrScwefte.]

Note 1. — It is possible to construe forseonde, modigende,
and wffistandende above as appositive participles, but it is
also possible that they may be used here precisely as the
Latin gerunds are ; that is, they may be verbal nouns in an
oblique case instead of verbal adjectives in the nominative
case. Certainly yrnende in the following is a verbal noun :
Benet1 3. 15 : . . . n "Sses rices healle on inne gyf we wyllaft
[blank], buton [blank] mid godum dsedum yrnende nateshwon
ne br<5 becumen = (In) cujus regni tabernaculo si volumus
habitare, nisi illuc bonis actibus currendo minime pervenitur.
[Cf. Benedict1 3. 9 : .Natoftseshwon his rices eardung bi$
gefaren buton mid gymene and gehealdsumnesse godra dseda ;
ofst and hradung godra weorca is to ftsern rice weges fsereld.]
In all probability, too, onginnende and standende, corre-
sponding respectively to a Latin gerundive and gerund, are
verbal nouns, not verbal adjectives, in the following : —
Benet1 105. 5a&b : setter endebyrdnesse $a $a he gesette ofrSe
3a fta habbaiS $a sylfan gebroiSran hi ne genealsecan [blank]
to huselgange to on * sealmum ginnende on choro slandende
= Ergo secundum ordines quos constituent vel quos habue-
rint ipsi fratres si [read sic] accedant ad pacem, ad commu-
nionem, ad psalmum imponendum, in choro standum. [Cf.

*As Logeman (foot-note to p. 105) says, on belongs with ginnende.

230 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

Benedict1 115. 4, 5 : ... gange selc sefter oftrum to cosse, to
husle and be 'San on chore stande and sealmas and gehwylce
•ftenunga beginne.~\

Note 2. — In the following the present participle that corre-
sponds to a Latin gerund in the ablative seems in use to be a
pure adverb: — Benet1 43. 4: $a3t is 3a3t sig [blank] sungen
buton antempne teonde sethwega swa swa on -Sam sun nan die
dssge = id est, ut sexagesimus sextus psalmus dicatur sine
antiphona subtrahendo modice sicut dominica. [Cf. Benedict1
37. 8 : ]>8dt is ftset se syxandsyxtigefta sealm . . . sy gecweden
butan antefene, and he sy on swege gelencged hwsethwara
ealswa on sunnanda3ge.] — Benet l 76. 3 : "Sane forSi eallunga
teonde latlice we wylla^S beon gessed = quem propter hoc
omnino protrahendo et morose volumus dici. [Cf. Benedict l
68. 9 : "Sonne we eac forSi on "Sam sancge lencgctf:>.~\

II. WITH AS OBJECT (63).

1. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
appositive participle (62) : —

NSM. (32) :— 68. 1 : sig hus cyte ofer hi betfeht 3 Sen
adrcedende [blank] 3 lufisende = sit cella super se deputata,
et servitor timens deum et diligens. [Here and occasionally
at other places deum is not glossed, perhaps because of its
familiarity.] — 34. 6 : gelyfe . . . geeadmetende hine sylfne =
credat . . . humilians se. — Other examples : — 29. 11 : asmai-
dand (MS. : asmaidan) = scrutans (or predicative?); 16. 8 :
behiwiende = dissimulans ; 13. 8: o~Srum bodiende = aliis
predicans ; 104. 16: brucende (MS.: brucenne) anwealde =
utens potestate; 111. 8: donde = faeiens ; 61. 7: drcedende
(MS. drcedenne) = timens; 31. 16 : geefenlcecende = immitans;
5. 3 : gefyllende = eomplens; 29. 3 : gehealdende = custo-
diens ; gehyrende = audiens: 3. 1, 17. 14; 35. 2: habbende
= habens; 98. 11 : healdende = reservans ; 31. 10: lufiende
= amans; 14. 14: mcengeende tidum tida = miscens tempo-
ribus tempora ; 109. 5: nimende = sumens ; 2. 16: secende

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 231

= qucerens; 28. 14: secende [sic /] = ponens; secgende =
dicens: 36. 5, 78. 10; 16. 9: taliende (MS.: taliendre) =
pendens ; 4. 7: tihtende (MS.: tihende) = suadentem ; 109. 2a :
ftencende = cogitans ; 36. 4 : wenende = existimans ; witende
= sciens: 15. 12, 19. 3, 57. 4a, 97. 5, 103. 14; 1. 8 :
wiftcweftende lustum — abrenuntians voluptatibus.

NSF. (1):— 98. 6: «set fers eall seo gsederung Sriddan
si-San toge&eodende [text : -enne] mid [blank] = Quern ver-
sum omnis congregatio tertio respondeat adjungentes gloria
patri. [The A.-S. has nothing corresponding to the Latin
respondeat. Of course, the A.-S. participle may be plural,
as the Latin one is.]

NSN. (3) : — 27. 2 : clypaft us gewritt Sset godcunda eala
seccende (= secgende) = Clamat nobis scriptura divina fra-
tres dicens. So secgende = dicens: 30. 14. — 32. 7: gesutuli-
ende = ostendens.

NPM. (19) :— 5. 16 -o giffleonde helle wite life we wyllafl
becuman to 'Sam ecan = Et si fugientes gehenne pcenas ad
vitam volumus pervenire perpetuam. — Other examples : —
4. 11 : ahwenende (= ah wenende?) = existimantes ; 12. 14:
forhicgende = contempnentes ; forlcetende = relinquentes : 23.
16, 24. 1; ib. = deserentes: 23. 17; 32. 12: gefyllende =
adimplentes ; 24. lla: gehyrsumiende (w. dat.) = obedientes /
healdende = servantes: 10. 9b; ib. = observantes: 117. 16 ; 51.
10 : myndigende = common entes ; nimende = accipientes : 92.
7 ; ib. = assumentes : 109. 16 ; 3. 16 : secgende = dicentes ;
•fteowgende (fteomende) (w. dat.) =^= servientes : 11. 3, 67. 13;
109. 15b: wenende = estimantes ; witende = scientes : 107.
12, 116. 4.

GSM. (3) : — 31. 11 : "Sas stefne drihtnes mid dsedum ac he
geefenlsece secgendes = sed vocem illam domini factis imi-
tetur dicentis. So secgendes = dicentis, 57. 4b. Cf. 109. 2b
(^Sencende gescad ftses halgan iacobes secgende = cogitans
discretionem sancti Jacob dicentis.)

GPM. (1) : — 111. 5: swa hwaenne swa geceost [blank]
mid gefteahte [blank] ondrcedendra gode etc. = quemcumque
elegerit abba curn consilio fratrum timentium deum.

232 MOEGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

DSF. (1):— 3. 8: est [«ib] luftempre [blank] (Siss)ere
stefne [blank] gelaftgendre la ge $a leofestan gebnygran =
Quid dulcius nobis (ab h)ac voce domini invitantis.

ASM. (i) :— 107. 7 : «»t [blank] for his leahtrum . . .
geftafiendne (text : -enne) had mid gelicum ge^eahte gif
gecysS = Quod si etiam omnis congregatio vitiis suis . . .
consentientem personam pari consilio elegerit.

APN. (1):— 26. 14: higlista [blank] o«*e idel word
[blank] stirienda ... we ... fordemaft = Scurilitates vero
vel verba otiosa et risum moventia . . . dampnamus.

2. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
gerund in the ablative (1) : —

NSM. (1) : — 31. 5 : ariende = parcendo.

B. — THE PRETERITE PARTICIPLE (39).
I. WITHOUT AN OBJECT (30).

1. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
appositive participle (30) : —

NSM. (15): — 59. 6 : -Sean fte he amansumad hit ne gebet
teartere genealsece ftrseiungan = etiam si excommunicatus non
emendaverit acrior ei accedat correptio. — Other examples : —
100. 3 : bepceht (MS. bepceht) = deceptus ; 68. lc ; fulfremed
= sollicitus; 77. 13: geasindrod = sequestratus ; 97. 17:
gebeden = rogatus ; 107. 14 : gehadod = ordinatus ; 78. 14 :
gehaten = jussus ; 104. 6: geminegod = ammonilus ; 54. 7b:
geftreat = correptus ; 2. 5 : geyrsod = irritatus ; 78. 11 :
pro ofered = stratus; 12. 11 : tolysed = absolutus ; 98. 17 :
unscryd = exutus; upahofen = elatus: 59. 9, 61. 5.

NSF. (1) :— 36. 12 : sona to 3a3re sotfan lufan godes
becymft to ftaBre fulfremed ut seo asend ege = mox ad
karitatem dei perveniet illam que perfecta foras mittit
timorem.

NSN. (1): — 70. 17: an pund awegen genihtsumige on
dege = Panis libera una propensa sufficiat in die.

THE APPOSITIYE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 233

NPM. (10) : — 10. 7 : fta on senigum regole na qfandode
vel [sie] oSfte afundennessa lareowas . . . Icogan gode . . .
synd acnawene = qui nulla regula approbate experientia
magistri . . . mentiri deo . . . noscuntur. — Other examples : —
113. 9 : astreht (MS. : astrekft) = prostrati; 44. 11 : geeyrde
= conversi; 10. la: gelcerde = docti; 32. 14: genydde =
angarizati; 76. 10: gesawene = visi; 75. 5a : gesette =
positi : 10. lb : getyde = instructi ; 10. 9a : nexode = molliti;
109. 15a: tobroedde = inflati.

ASM. (2): — 118. 12: $ysne Sane Isestan acunnednesse
regol awritenne fylstendum criste $u gefremme = hanc mini-
mam inchoationis regulam discripiam adjuvante christo per-
ficias ; 20. 10 : gedonne =factam.

APF. (1) :— 92. 15 : [b]rec $as «a *a [blank] beo« asende
on hrsegelhuse niman iSa hi gecyrrende geftwagenu ^ara
agenbringan = Femuralia hi qui in via diriguntur de vesti-
ario accipiant qui revertentes lota ibi restituant. [Is the -u
of geftwagenu due to lota, and is geftwagenu to be considered
a neuter despite the gender of [6]rec f]

Note. — In the following, gewunede and gedihte appear to
be used as adverbs : — 92. 16 : cuflan 3 tonican beon ofter-
hwilen synd gewunede sunt [sic] habban sethwigan beteran =
Cuculle et tunice sint aliquanto solito quas habent modice
meliores; 40. 11: sittendum eallum gedihte y be endebyrd-
nysse on sceamolum = residentibus cunctis disposite et per
ordinem in subselliis.

II. WITH AN OBJECT (9).

1. An A.-S. appositive participle corresponds to a Latin
appositive participle (9) : —

NSM. (1) : — 54. 7a : ftset senig of 'Sam on sumere fserunga
tobrced modignesse gif bift gemet teallic etc. = Quod si
quisque ex eis aliqua forte inflatus superbia repertus fuerit
reprehensibilis etc.

234 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

GSF. (1) : — 16. 7 : ftaet he na ftset an nyfterunga sefwyrSe
heorde him sylfan befcestre -Solige = ut non solum detrimenta
gregis sibi commissi non patiatur.

GPF. (1) : — 16. 9 : haBle saule him sylfan bifcestra = salu-
tem animarum sibi commissarum.

DSN. (1):— 57. 3a: ana [blank] to weorce [blank] to be-
tcehtum = Solns sit ad opus sibi injunctum.

DPM. (1) : — 31. 1 : y gif fram englum [blank] betehtum
= et si ab angelis nobis deputatis.

DPN. (1): — 75. 4: on -Sam sylfum betcehtum him sylfum
•Singum = in assignato sibi commisso.

ASM. (1) : — 104. 4 : se [blank] regol fram decanum o&Se
fram pravostum him sylfan gesetne gehealden wite = qui
tamen regulam a decanis vel prepositis sibi constitutam
servare sciat.

ASF. (2): — 104. 15: se ne abbod gedrefe befceste him
sylfum heorde = Qui abbas non conturbet gregem sibi
commissam : 62. 15 : him betcehte = sibi commissum.

II. — IN THE POEMS.
A.— LONGER POEMS.

BEOWULF (91).
A.— THE PRESENT PARTICIPLE (23).

I. WITHOUT AN OBJECT (19).

NSM. (9) :— 2272 : se «e byrnende biorgas seceft ; ib. 2569
(or pred.?); 815: wees gehwse^er oftrum lifigende la^. —
Other examples: — 2219: slcepende; 2235: ftanchycgende ;
2548: unbyrnende ; 708: wceccende; 2062: wigende (or
lifigende?); 2716: wishycgende.

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 235

NSF. (1) :— 1953 : «»r hio si$«an wel . . . lifgesceafta
lifigende breac.

NPM. (2) : — 916 : Hwilurn flitende fealwe strsete mearum
mseton ; 2850 : hy scamiende scyldas bseran.

N. Dual M. (1) : — 535 : Wit -Sset gecwsedon cnihtwesende.

DSM. (2) : — 1389 : iSset bi$ drihtguman unlifgendum sefter
selest; 1187 : gif he ftset eal geraon, hwset wit to willan and
to worSmyndum umbor-wesendum ser arna gefremedon (or
subst. here?).

ASM. (3): — 2781: ligegesan waeg hatne for horde, hioro-
weallende; 372: Ic hine cufte cnihtwesende; 46: fte hine set
frumsceafte for5 onsendon senne ofer ySe umbor wesende.

APM. (1) : — 1581 : slcepende frset folces Denigea fyftyne
men.

II. WITH OBJECT (4).

NSM. (3): — 2106: gomela Scilding fela fricgende feorran
rehte (but Kohler considers fela an adverb) ; 2350 : for iSon
he ajr fela nearo neftende ni3a gedigde; 1227 : Beo iSu suna
minum dsedum gedefe dream healdende. [Should we not
write dream-healdende, as Grein does in his Glossary ?
Cf. dream-hcebbendra in Genesis 81. Kohler considers
healdende as substantivized.]

NPM. (1) :— 1829 : Gif ic «»t gefricge ofer floda begang,
$set 'Sec ymbesittend egesan •Sywa'S, swa Sec hefende
hwilum dydon, ic $e iSusenda "Segna bringe, heeleSa to helpe
(or a substantivized participle, as Kohler holds).

B. — THE PKETERITE PARTICIPLE (68).
I. WITHOUT AN OBJECT (18).

NSM. (9) : — 1351 : oiSer earmsceapen on weres wsestmum
wraeclastas trsed (may be considered substantivized as by
Kohler) ; 2569 : Gewat "Sa byrnende gebogen scriSan (or
pred. ?) ; 846 : hu he . . . on nicera mere fsege and geflymed

236

feorhlastas baer ; ib. 1370; 2852: He gewergad sset ; 868:
guma gilphlceden or attrib. ?) ; 262 : Wses min feeder folcum
gecyiSed, seiSele ordfruma Ecg'Seow haten (may be pred.) ;
1913: Ceol up geftrang, lyftgeswenced on lande stod ; 2443:
sceolde hwseiSre swa iSeah seSeling unwrecen ealdres linnan.

NSF. (2): — 614: cwen Hroftgares . . . grette goldhroden
guman on healle; ib. 1948.

NSN. (1): — 3012: ac ftaer is maftma hord, gold unrirne
grimme geceapod (may be pred.).

NS. M. or N. (1): — 3085: Hord is gesceawod, grimme
gegongen.

NPM. (1): — 1819: we saBlrSend secgan wyllaiS, feorran
cumene, ftsst etc.

NPN. (2) : — 59 : Dsem feower beam for5 gerimed in
woruld wocun. — Other examples: — 3049: fturhetone (or
pred. ?).

DSM. (1) : — 1479: "SaBt "Su me a wsere fot^gewitenum on
faBder staBle (cf. Abs. Ptc. in A.-S., p. 16).

APF. (1) : — 1937 : ac him waelbende weotode tealde, hand-
gewriftene.

II. WITH AN OBJECT (50).

NSM. (27): — 1113: wses eSgesyne . . . se^Seling manig
wundum awyrded; 721: Com . . . rinc simian dreamum
bedceled; ib. 1275. — Other examples: — 1451 : befongen frea-
wrasnum ; 2274: fyre befangen; ib. 2595; 531: beore

druncen; 1467: wine ; 2580: bysigum gebceded ; 3117:

strengum gebceded; 2359: bille gebeaten; 2401: torne ge-
bolgen ; 2111: eldo gebunden; 923: cystum gecyfted; 217:
winde gefysed; 630 : girSe gefysed; 2309 : fyre gefysed;
1005: nyde genyded (Wiilckerhas genydde); 975: synnum
geswenced; 1368: hundum geswenced; 1285: hamere ge-

fturen; 250: wsepuum geweorftad ; 1450: since ; 1038:

since gewurftad; 1645: dome ; 2255: hyrsted golde;

845 : nr$a ofercumen.

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 237

NSF. (5) : — 1443 : scolde herebyrne hondurn gebroden, sid
and searofah sund cunnian. — Other examples : — 3018 : golde
bereafod; 1333: fylle gef(r)cegnod ; 777: golde geregnad;
624 : mode geftungen.

NSN. (5) : — 553 : beadohrsegl ... on breostum Iseg, golde
gegyrwed. — Other examples: — 2680: ni$e genyded; 2764:
searwum gesceld ; 2441: fyrenum geseyngad ; 406: seowed
smrSes orSancum.

NS. M. or N. (1): 3146: astah . . . swogende leg wope
bewunden.

NPM. (3): — 1126 : Gewiton him fta wigend wica neosian
freondum befeallen Frysland geseon; 480: Fuloft gebeotedon
beore druncne ofer ealowsege oretmecgas. — Other examples : —
3014 : feore gebohte.

ASM. (1):— 3139: Him $a gegiredan Geata leode ad on
eorftan unwaclicne, helmum behongen.

ASF. (2) : — 2931 : bryd aheorde, gomela iomeowlan golde
berofene. — Other examples: — 2192 : golde gegyrede.

ASN. (2) : — 1900 : He ftaern batwearde bunden golde swurd
gesealde; 1531: wearp $a wundenmsel wraettum gebunden
yrre oretta (though some consider gebunden as nom.).

AS. M. or N. (1) : — 2769 : Swylce he siomian geseah segn
eallgylden, . . . gelocen leoftocrseftum.

APM. (1) : — 1028 : ne gefrsegn ic freondlicor feower mad-
mas golde gegyrede gum manna fela in ealobence oftrum
gesellau.

APN. (2) :— 2762 : Geseah . . . fyrnmanna fatu feormend-
lease hyrstum behrorene; 871 : soiSe gebunden.

Note 1. — Kohler reads ealo drincende in 1945, and con-
siders drincende an appositive participle; I retain Wiilker's
ealodrincende, which is a substantive.

Note 2. — The text is too defective to admit of classifying
the following: 304: gehroden ; 1031: bewunden; 2229:
earmsceapen ; 2230: sceapen ; 3151: wunden.

238 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

GENESIS1 (42).

A. — THE PRESENT PARTICIPLE (10).
I. WITHOUT OBJECT (10).

NSM. (3) : — 1583 : ac he hlihende broftrum ssegde. — Other
examples: — 874: sceomiende; 347: sorgiende.

NSF. (1) :— 890 : gitsiende.

NSN. (1):— 560: willende.

NPM. (1):— 2066: hlihende.

GPF. (1) : — 81 : ftrymraas weoxon dugirSa mid drihtne
dreamhcebbendra.

DSM. (2) : — 2663 : ftset ic fte lissa lifigendum giet OD dagum
Isete dugufta brucan, sinces gesundne ; 2649 : Me ssegde ser
ftset wif hire wordum selfa unfricgendum, $set etc.

ASM. (1) : — 2169 : ac ic "Se lifigende her wi*S weana ge-
hwam wreo ^ scylde.

B. — THE PRETERITE PARTICIPLE (32).

I. WITHOUT OBJECT (11).

NSM. (4) : — 1571 : SwiiSe on slsepe sefa nearwode, "Saet he
ne mihte on gemynd drepen nine handum self mid hrsegle
wry on. — Other examples: — 725: gehugod; 481: gewanod;
1799 : haten (may be pred., as Seyfarth holds).

GPM. (1) : — 1836 : feorren cumenra.

GPN. (1) : — 1185 : wintra gebidenra etc.

ASM. (1) :— 1865 : geSreadne.

ASF. (2): — 165: ceteowde; 549: gesceapene (or pred,?).

ASN. (1) :— 2022 : forslegen (or attrib. ?).

APN. (!):—! 520: besmiten.

II. WITH OBJECT (21).

NSM. (9):— 930: duge^um bedceled; 2099: eorlum be-
droren; 2124: secgum befylled ; 2605: wine druncen;

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 239

1818: drihtne gecoren; 2668: egesan geftread; 2137 : elne
gewurftod ; 32: niftes of&yrsted ; 2740: hleowfeftrum fteaht
(or pred. ?).

NPM. (5): — 86: leohte belorene; 76: Systrum befieahte;
1734: metode gecorene; 1693: hleoSrum gedcelde; 2002:
ecgum o/ftegde.

NPF. (2):— 2082: dome bedrorene; 2010: freondum be-
slcegene.

NPN.(2):— 2001: secgum ofslegene; 1989: helmum Keahte.

ASN. (2): — 1263: hundtwelftig geteled rime wintra;
2344 : geteled rimes.

APN. (1) : — 1336: ftu seofone genim on iSset sundreced
tudra gehwilces geieled rimes.

Note. — Seyfarth considers the following as appositive parti-
ciples:—183: unwundod, 319 : fylde, 1472: Iffiend, 2480:
ftearfende. But, in The Abs. Ptc. in A.-S. (p. 17), I have
shown that unwundod is used predicatively, and that fylde is
a finite verb. The form of liftend seems to me to show that
it is a substantive. I consider that ftearfende is used sub-
stantively, as does Dietrich (quoted by Wiilker). — In 2603,
genearwod, the text is too defective to admit ot classification.

EXODUS (12).
A. — THE PRESENT PARTICIPLE (3).

I. WITHOUT OBJECT (3).

NSF. (1) : — 213 : Wceecende bad eall seo sibgedriht somod
setgsedere maran msegenes.

NPM. (2) :— 452 : flugon forhtigende (or pred. ?) ; 264 :
lifigende.

B.— THE PRETERITE PARTICIPLE (9).

I. WITHOUT OBJECT (3).

NPN. (1) : — 497 : synfullra sweot sawlum lunnon fseste
befarene.

240 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

ASM. (1) : — 412 : unweaxenne.

ASN. (1) : — 232 : x. hund geteled tireadigra.

II. WITH OBJECT (6).

NSM. (3):— 5322: wreccum alyfed; 5321 : wommum
awyrged ; 549: mihtum swti&ed.
NSF. (1) :— 580 : golde geweorftod.
NPM. (1) : — 36 : swsefon seledreamas since berofene.
ASN. (1) :— 372 : geteled rime.

DANIEL (13).
A.— THE PKESENT PAKTICIPLE (5).

I. WITHOUT OBJECT (3).

NSM. (2) :— 687 : hamfdttende (or attrib.?) ; 573 : lifgende.
NPM. (1):— 2962: lifgende.

II. WITH OBJECT (2).

NSM. (2) : — 355 : Sser fta dsedhwatan geond ftone ofen
eodon "3 se engel mid, feorh nerigende; 396 : "Sec . . . gastas
lofiaft liffrean, lean sellende eallum . . . [defective MS.] ece
drihten.

B.— THE PKETERITE PARTICIPLE (8).

I. WITHOUT OBJECT (1).
ASM. (1) :— 521 : gesceledne.

II. WITH OBJECT (7).

NSM. (3) : — 736 : drihtne gecoren; 1842 : mode gefrecnod;
1841: mane gemenged.

NSN. (1) : — 556 : treow . . . telgum besnceded.

NPM. (3):— 2961: lige belegde; 92: metode gecorene;
259 : aldre generede.

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 241

Note. — Spaeth considers 696 (Saeton him set wine wealle
belocene) as appositive, but the participle is rather predicative
after sceton.

CYNEWULF'S CHRIST (65).
A. — THE PRESENT PARTICIPLE (14).

I. WITHOUT OBJECT (13).

NSM. (3): — 176: Hwset bemurnest "Su, cleopast ceari-
gende? — Other examples : — 426 : forftgongende ; 1324 : unsco-
miende.

NSF. (4): — 1160: Hell eac ongeat scyldwreccende fleet
etc.; 1016: sorgende; 1584: scriftende; 288: ftristhycgende.

NPM. (4):— 950: brecende; 387: bremende; 90: gecm-
rende; 992: wanende.

DPM. (1): 1266: sorgendum.

ASM. (1) :— 1391 : $a ic $e on $a fcegran foldan gesette to
neotenne neorxnawonges beorhtne blsedwelan, bleom sdnende.

II. WITH OBJECT (1).

NPM. (1) : — 1271 : on ftam hi awo sculon wrsec winnende
wserg^u dreogan. [Grein1 and Gollancz1 & 2 write as a com-
pound, iwcecurinnendeJ]

B. — THE PRETERITE PARTICIPLE (51).
I. WITHOUT OBJECT (15).

NSM. (2) : — 475 : acwseft Waldend engla, gefysed, Frea
mihtig, to Fa3der rice ; 970 : Grorna'S gesargad eal mid-
dangeard (but Hertel considers it predicative after an
intransitive verb).

NSF. (3):— 1065: armed; 1087: biseon (or pred.?);
380 : geblissad.

NSN. (2) :— 218 : acenned; 961 : gesargad.

242 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

NPM. (3):— 1229: arasode; 12981: ascamode; 1274:
fordone.

NPN. (2) :— 1223 : Donne beo$ gesomnad $a clsenan folc
. . . gccorene bi cystum ; 1071 ; Donne weoroda msest fore
Waldende, ece and edgeong, ondweard gseft, neode ond nyde bi
noman gehatne (may be masc., as Cook gives it).

GPM. (1) : — 179 : Ne ic ciilpan. in $e, incan senigne sefre
onfunde, womma geworhtra.

ASN. (1) : — 890 : mon ma3g sorgende folc gehyran, hyge-
geomor, hearde gefysed, cearum cwrSende cwicra gewyrhtu,
forhte afserde.

APN. (1) :—892 : afcerde (quoted under ASN. 889 above).

II. WITH OBJECT (36).

NSM. (6) : — 625 : ond to ftsere ilcan scealt eft geweorSan
wurmum aweallen. — Other examples : — 725 : cla^Sum be-
wunden (or pred. ?) ; 1407 : bidceled dugeiSum ond dreamum ;

1432: mane ; 1206: deaftfirenum forden; 10:5 mon-

num sended.

NSF. (4): — 192: ftonne sceal Dauides dohtor sweltan,
stanurn astyrfed. — Other examples : — 1085 : blode bestemed
(or pred. ?) ; 908 : gebleod wundrum ; 292 : beaga hroden.

NS. N. or M. (1): — 1139: ftses temples segl, wundor-
bleom geworht to wlite 3a3S huses, sylf slat on tu.

NPM. (21) : — 940 : steorran swa some stredaft of heofone,
"Surh 'Sa strongan lyft stormum abeatne. — Other examples : —
1525: ra3dum birofene; 1519: willum biscyrede; 16432:
sorgum biwerede; 16431 : sibbum bisweftede; 831 : wselmum
biwrecene; 1642: leohte biwundne; 1103: firenum fordone;
1356: adle gebundne ; 1538: \egegebundne; 993: hreowum

gedreahte; 12982: scondum ; 1508: drynces ;

16441: dreamum gedyrde; 393: swegle gehyrste; 16442:
Dryhtne gelyfde; 149 : suslum geslcehte; 385 : dome ge-
siwftde; 986 : sundes getwcefde; 1509 : fturste geftegede;
447 : hrseglum gewerede.

THE APPOSITIVE PAKTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 243

GSM. (1) : — 20 : Eadga us siges oftmmforwyrned, wlitigan
wilsrSes, gif his weorc ne deag.

DPM. (1) : — 151 : bring us hselolif wergum wite-
•Seowum, wope forcymenum.

ASF. (1) :— 120 : Nu we hyhtfulle haBlo gelyfatf Surh Sset
Word Godes weorodum brungen.

APM. (1) : — 873 : slsepe gebundne.

Note. — In 891 (mon ma3g sorgende folc gehyran, hyge-
geomor, hearde gefysed, cearum cwftende cwicra gewyfhtu),
Hertel considers cwiftende appositive, but to me it seems to
be used predicatively as a second accusative.

ELENE (26).
A. — THE PRESENT PARTICIPLE (9).

I. WITHOUT OBJECT (7).

NSM. (3) : — 352 : swa hit eft be eow Essaias . . . wordum
, deophycggende $urh dryhtnes gast; ib. 881; 951:
wfo erhycgende.

NSF. (1) : — 449 : Ne mseg . . . Ebrea 3eod rcedfteahtende
rice healdan.

NPF. (1) : — 906 : sawla ne moton manfremmende in minum
leng sehtum wunigan.

DSM. (1) : — 810 : Sie $e, msegena god, ftrymsittendum "Sane
butan ende.

ASM. (1) : — 795 : Forlset nti . . . wynsumne up under
radores ryne rec astigan lyftlaeende.

II. WITH OBJECT (2).

GPM. (1) : — 1096 : Da se halga . . . code gumena Create
god hergendra.

DPM. (1) : — 1220 : $a eallum bebead on $arn gumrice
god hergendum, werum and wifum, -SaBt etc. (Schiirmann :
substantivized).

244 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

B. — THE PRETERITE PARTICIPLE (17).
I. WITHOUT OBJECT (3).

NSN. (1): — 1226: mserost beama, "Sara fte of eorftan up
aweoxe geloden under leafum.

GPM. (1) : — 992 : Nses fta fricgendra under goldhoman
gad in burgum feorran geferede [Sievers as quoted by Wiilker:
geferedraf].

ASM. (1) : — 529 : mec feeder min . . . unweaxenne wordum
laerde.

II. WITH OBJECT (14).

NSM. (6) : — 697 : cleopigan ongan sarum besyled. — Other
examples: — 932: sarum forsoht; 1128: egesan geaclod ;
720 : hungre gehyned ; 1263 : wirum gewlenced; 1094 :
breostum onbryrded.

NSF. (1) : — 331 : on ftrymme bad . . . geatolic guftcwen
golde gehyrsted.

NSN. (2) : — 2 : Da wses agangen geara hwyrftum tu hund
3 iSreo geteled rimes ; 634 : geteled rime.

NPM. (2) : — 766 : dreogaft deaftcwale in dracan Vse-Sine
fteostrum forftylmed ; 263: hyrstum gewerede.

NPN. (1) :— 883 : leomu colodon Sreanedum befteaht.

GPN. (1):— 1284: Sceall seghwylc . . . worda swa same
wed gesyllan, eallra unsnyttro ser gesprecenra.

ASM. (1) :— 1058 : Stet he gesette . . . ludas Sam folce to
bisceope . . . crseftum gecorene.

Note. — Schiirmann (p. 368) considers the following apposi-
tive, but I substantive: — 279: meftelhegende ; 395: synwyr-
cende. On the other hand, as the statistics show, I have
classified as appositive participles several words that he
considers as substantives.

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 245

JULIANA (28).
A. — THE PRESENT PARTICIPLE (11).

I. WITHOUT OBJECT (10).

NSM. (5) : — 68 : Da reordode rices hyrde wi$ -Ssere
faemnan fseder frecne mode darafthcebbende ; 281 : lyft-
lacende; 137: $e $u hsestlice manfremmende to me beotast
(or subst. ?) ; 445 : sceal nu lange ofer -Sis scyldwyrcende
scame ftrowiau ; 261 : dftende.

NSF. (1) :— 252 : gleawhycgende.

NSN. (1): — 648: ic leof weorud Iseran wille cefrem-
mende, etc.

NPM. (1) : — 662 : wceccende.

DSF. (1) :— 196 : wifterhycgendre.

ASM. (1) :— 435 : Krymsittendne (cf. Phoenix 623).

II. WITH OBJECT (1).

GPM. (1) : — 6 : geat on grseswoog god hergendra hseften
hildfruma haligra blod ryhtfremmendra. [Gollancz has
a, in which case we have a substantive.]

B. — THE PRETERITE PARTICIPLE (17).

I. WITHOUT OBJECT (7).

NSM. (5):— 411: aeyrred; 320: afongen ; 417: bifolen;
2621 : geftungen; 2622 : sended (or pred., as Conradi holds?).
GPN. (1) :— 686 : witedra.
ASM. (1): — 617 : awyrgedne.

II. WITH OBJECT (10).

NSM. (4) :— 350 : facne bifongen; 203 : nrSa gebceded; ib.
462 ; 582 : yrre gebolgen.

246 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

NSF. (2):— 241: heolstre bihelmad; 535: breostum
inbryrded.

NPM. (4) :— 681 : hroSra bidceled hyhta lease helle
sohton. — Other examples: — 486: beore druncne; 13: dse-
dum gedwolene ; 490 : sarum gesohte.

GUTHLAC (42).
A. — THE PRESENT PARTICIPLE (11).

I. WITHOUT OBJECT (10).

NSM. (1) : — 1085 : lac onsa3gde deophycgende dryhtne to
willan.

NPM. (7) : — 203 : sceoldon wrsecmsecgas ofgiefan gnornende
grene beorgas; ib. 651; 117: $onan si$ tugon, wide wa$e
wuldre bescyrede lyftlaeende. — Other examples: — 401 : mur-
nende; 828: scudende; 879: wedende; 635: wfterhyegende.

NPF. (1) :— 1250 : wyrta . . . hunigflowende.

GSM. (1):— 1190: neosendes.

II. WITH OBJECT (1).

NSM. (1) : — 1029 : ac he hate let torn Koliende tearas
geotan. [Furkert considers ftoliende predicative after let, but
incorrectly I think. Of. Judith 272.]

B.— THE PRETERITE PARTICIPLE (31).

I. WITHOUT OBJECT (8).

NSM. (5) : — 911 : Hrefter innan born ofysed on forSsrS. —
Other examples: — 1286: arcered; 662: gegearwad ; 1287:
gesewen ; 913: ungeblyged.

NSN. (1) :— 1282 : 'lie colode belifd under lyfte.

NPF. (1) :— 1249 : wyrta geblowene.

NPN. (1): — 1263: scadu swe^Sredon tolysed under lyfte.

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 247

II. WITH OBJECT (23).

NSM.(8) : — 1127 : awrecen wselpilum ; 1260 : . . . wselstrse-
lum ; 967: flsesce bifongen ; 1143: leana biloren; 1004:
foldserne bifteaht; 640: attre geblonden ; 1126: nearwum
genceged ; 1 274 : husle gereorded.

NSF. (1) : — 1325 : — ftonne seo ftrag cymeft wefen wyrd-
stafurn (or pred. ?).

NSN. (1) : — 888 : him to honda huDgre geftreatad fleag
fugla cyn.

NPM. (7) : — 116 : wuldre byscyrede; 873 : dreamura bidro-
rene; 872: hiwes binotene ; 1047: wilna biscirede; 645:
wuldre biscyrede ; 858: adle gebundne; 1046: ac in lige
sceolon sorgwylmum soden sar wanian.

NPN. (2): — 930: leomu hefegedon sarum gesohte; ib.
1003.

ASM. (3) :— 1312 : life bilidenne ; 992: is me ... geftuht,
%set $e untrynmes adle gongum on ftisse nyhstan niht bys-
gade, sarbennum gesoht; 1118 : feorhhord onleac searoca3gum
gesoht.

APM. (1) :— 740 : leohte gercehte.

RIDDLES (44).
A.— THE PRESENT PARTICIPLE (8).

I. WITHOUT OBJECT (8).

NSM. (4) :— 13. 14 : lifgende; ib. 29. 9 ; 3. 8 : winnende;
41. 107 : wrotende.

NSN. (1) : — 49. 4 : sine for secgum swigende cwaeft.

NS. F. or N. (1) :— 84. 5 : wiht . . .ferende.

NPM. (1) : — 17. 6: hi beoft swrSran ^onne ic ^ mec
slitende sona flyma'S.

GSF. (1) :— 55. 5 : stondendre.

248 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

B. — THE PRETERITE PARTICIPLE (36).

I. WITHOUT OBJECT (9).

NSM. (4):— 72. 12: bunden ; 24. 16: searosceled; 2.
11 : sended; 24. 15 : unbunden.

NSF. (2) :— 21. 2 : gegyrwed ; 21. 1 : sceapen.

NS. F. or N. (1) : — 24. 2: ic eom wrsetlic wiht on gewin
sceapen.

NSN. (1):— 31. 21: 6ewwiden.

NPM. '(I) :— 12. 61 : gemcedde.

II. WITH OBJECT (27).

NSM. (12):— 28. 14: imegene binumen; 28. 13: strengo
bistolen; 3. 9: holmmsegne btiSeaht; 18. 2 : gefylled dryht-
gestreona (or pred. ?) ; 2. 10 : holme gehrefed; 71. 8 : hringum
gehyrsted; 4. 66: meahtum gemanad; 41. 85: gewefcn
wundorcrsefte ; 91. 4: hringum gyrded ; 5. 2: hringum
hcefied; 11. 4: ySum Srafa; i&. 17. 3.

NSF. (5): — 27. 6: sindrum begrunden; 71. 1: reade
bewcefed (or pred. ?) ; 32. 20 : frcetwed hyrstum ; 4. 22 : eare
geblonden; 32. 10: gecoren crsefturn.

NSJST. (2):— 31. 3: fyre gebysgad (or pred.?); 31. 22 :
wedre gesomnad (or pred. ?).

NPM. (4):— 14. 8: meahtum aweahte; 12. 62 : mode
bestolene; 14. 7 : reafe birofene; 12. 7 : daede gedwolene.

NPN. (1) : — 27. 14 : wrsetlic weorc smrSa wire bifongen.

ASF. (1) : — 87. 2 : wombe ftryiSum geftrungne.

ASN. (2):— 24. 8: spilde geblonden; 30. 3: listum
gegierwed.

Note 1. — Two Latin appositive participles occur in the
Riddles, but are not translated into Anglo-Saxon : — 90. 41 * 2 :
Dum starem et mirarem, vidi gloriam magnam : duo lupi
stantes et tertium tribul[antes] nil pedes habebant, cum
septem oculis videbant.

THE APPOSITIVE PAETICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 249

Note 2. — The defective text precludes the classification
of the following: — 78. 7: bewrigene; 83. 3 and 4: life
bewunden j fyre gefcelsad ; 84. 40 : wuldrum gewlitegad.

ANDREAS (33).

A. — THE PRESENT PARTICIPLE (7).
I. WITHOUT OBJECT (4).

NSM. (3): — 1557: hean, hygegeomor, heofende sprsec ;
378 : aenig ne wende, ftset he lifgende land begete ; 59 : He 3a
wepende weregum tearum his sigedryhten sargan reorde, grette.

GSM. (1) : — 528 : ftu cyninges eart ftegen . . . ftrymsittendes.

II. WITH OBJECT (3).

NSM. (2) : — 570 : ^ESelinge weox word 3 wisdom, ah he
•Sara wundra a dona agende dsel aenigne fraetre Seode beforan
cy^de ; 300 : Him $a ofstlice Andreas wi$ wine ftearfende
wordum msalde (cf. Guthlac 1321, where wineftearfende Js
substantive).

DPF. (1) : — 491 : Ic waes on gife^e iu y nu syxtyne srSum
on sa3bate, mere hrerendum mundtim freorig, eagorstreamas.

B. — THE PRETERITE PARTICIPLE (26).

I. WITHOUT OBJECT (12).

NSM. (6) : — 78 : fty laes ic lungre scyle attended in burgum
. . . leng ftrowian. — Other examples : — 1299 : diverged; 267 :
bewunden; 1127: gehcefied; 4362 : geftreatod; 4361 : geftyd.

.NSN. (1) : — 1529 : sund grunde onfeng deope gedrefed.

NPM. (1) : — 665 : uses $«r folces ma ... sinra leoda
nemne ellefne orettmsecgas, geteled tireadige.

GPM. (1) : — 24 : hie blod and fel, fira flaaschomau feorran
cumenra ftegon.

250 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

ASM. (1) : — 1651 : Dser se ar godes anne gesette wisfsestne
wer, . . O gehalgode . . ., Platan nemned.

ASF. (1): — 646 : ic on $e sylfum soft oncnawe wisdomes
gewit wundorcrsefte, sigesped geseald (or fact. ?).

APM. (1) : — 883 : swylce we gesegon for suna meotudes
. . . eowic standan, twelfe getealde, tireadige haeleft.

II. WITH OBJECT (14).

NSM. (5) : — 309 : fteet ftu ssebeorgas secan woldes, mere-
strearaa gemet, maftmum bedceled. — Other examples : — 1314 :
dugirSum berea/od; 413: billurn foregrunden; 983: elne
gefyrftred ; 1313: myrce gescyrded.

NSN. (1) :— 772 : morftre bewunden.

NPM. (4):— 1631: witum aspedde; 1618: wuldre
bescyrede ; 1 003 : dreore druncne ; 746 : mode gemyrde.

DSM. (1) : — 487 : ^set "Su me get^ehte . . . hu "Su wsegflotan
wsere bestemdon, ssehengeste sund wisige.

ASF. (1) : — 675 : he lungre ahof wo^e . . . wean onblonden.

ASN. (1):— 1035: geljedde . . . on fri« dryhtnes tu y
hundteontig geteled rime (cf. Andr. 665 and Elene 2, 634).

APN. (1) : — 1046 : weorod on wilsrS wolcnum beftehte.

Note. — The MS. is too defective to classify 1025 : gewyrht.

PHCENIX (26).

A.— THE PRESENT PARTICIPLE (4).
I. WITHOUT OBJECT (4).

NSM. (1): — 368: forSon he drusende dea$ ne bisorgaiS.

NSF. (1) : — 502 : ftonne "Seos woruld wyldwyrcende in
scome byrne'S.

GPM. (1): — 178: ealra beama on eorSwege uplcedendra.

DSM. (1):— 623: ond «e ^onc sy Krymsittendum. Cf.
Summons to Prayer 2 : ftrymcyningc thronum sedens; and
ib. 25 : to "Seodne thronum regenti.

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 251
B.— THE PRETERITE PARTICIPLE (22).

I. WITHOUT OBJECT (7).

NSM. (3):— 525: afcered; 180: gescylded; 160: gtf&ungen.

NPM. (1) :— 592 : gebredade.

NPF. (2) : — 226 : geclungne ; 541 : gecorene.

ASN. (1):— 274: gefrcetwed.

II. WITH OBJECT (15).

NSM. (9):— 535: flsesce bifongen ; 306: bregden feSrum ;
602: brogden wundrum ; 140: sselum geblissad; 27: wyn-
num gebiowen; 162: wintrura gebysgad; 486: wsepnum
geftryfted ; 551: wuldre geweorftad; 550: breostum on-

NSF. (1) :— 503 : ade

NSN. (1) :— 62 : lyfte gebysgad.

NPM. (1) : — 633 : manes amerede.

ASF. (2) : — 1701&2 : biholene 3 bihydde monegum.

APM. (1) : — 488 : sawlum binumene.

METRES OF BOETHIUS (13).
A. — THE PRESENT PARTICIPLE (6).

I. WITHOUT OBJECT (6).

NSM. (1) : — 2. 2 : Hwset ic liofta fela lustlice geo sang on
sselum ! nu sceal siofigende wope gewfeged wreccea giomor
singan sarcwidas = Boeth.2 3. 2 : Carmina qui quondam
studio floreute peregi, flebilis in maestos cogor inire modos.

NSF. (3) :— 20. 221 : Sonne hio ymb hi selfe secende
smeaS; ib. 20. 214; 20. 212: hwasrfeS ymbe hy selfe oft
smeagende ymb etc.

NSN. (1) : — 3. 4 : ftonne hit winnende his agen leoht an-
forlaete^.

252 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

NPF. (1):— 11. 34: Swa hsefK geheaSerod hefonrices
weard mid his anwealde ealle gesceafta, ^set hiora seghwilc
wr$ o'Ser win$, 3 $eah winnende wreSiaft fa3ste = Boeth.2
48. 3 : Quod pugnantia semina foedus perpetuum tenent.

B. — THE PRETERITE PARTICIPLE (7).

I. WITHOUT OBJECT (4).

NSM. (!):—!. S2:far$oht.
NSF. (1) :— 6. 15 : geondstyred.

NPM. (1) : — 25. 7 : ymbestandne — Boeth.2 95. 2 : sceptos.
APM. (1) :— 19. 4 : alceded (perhaps should be alcedeS,
as Grein conjectures).

II. WITH OBJECT (3).

NSM. (1) : — 2. 3 : wope gewceged (see Latin under 2. 2
above).

NSN. (1) : — 3. 8 : sorgum geswenced.
NPM. (1) :— 25. 6 : golde gegerede.

THE METRICAL PSALMS1 (37).
A. — THE PRESENT PARTICIPLE (17).

I. WITHOUT OBJECT (13).

NSM. (2) : — 50. 75 (Cot.) : Sonne ic . . . ofer snawe self
scinende ftinre sibbe lufan sona gemete = et super nivem
dealbabor ; 77. 651 : slcepende = dormiens.

NPM. (5):— 50. 56 (Cot.): cerrende=o; 125. 51&2:
gangende y ferende georne wepaft = euntes ibant et flebant ;
146. 10 : se 3e mete syle'S manegum neatura, hrefnes
briddum, ftonne heo kropende him cigea^ to = Qui dat
jumentis escam ipsorum, et pullis corvorum invocantibus
eum ; 113. 25 : lifigende = qui vivimus.

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 253

DSN. (1) : — 82. 6 : raid eardiendum folce in Tyrum ==
cum habitantibus Tyrura.

DPM. (1) : — 140. 6 : mid mannum man/remmendum = cum
hominibus operantibus iniquitatem.

ASN. (2) : — 140. 4 : sete swsese geheald swylce, drihten,
mu-Se minum (ne leet man sprecan) 3 aeftele dor ymb-
standende, "Sset on welerum wisdom healde = Pone, Domine,
custodiam ori meo ; et ostium circumstantice labiis meis ; 57.
6 : yrnende = currens.

APM. (2) : — 68. 25 : gramhicgende — o ; 123. 2 : lifyende
= vivos.

II. WITH OBJECT (4).

NSM. (2):— 104. 10: and him $a mid so$e ssegde,
cweftende = Et statuit . . . dicens; 105. 4: Gemune us,
drihten, on modsefan forS hycgende folces -Sines 3 us
mid haelo her geneosa = Memento nostri, Domine, in bene-
placito populi tui ; visita nos in salutari tuo.

NPM. (1): — 138. 17: Blodhreowe weras ! ge bebugaS me,
"Se "Sset on geftohtum ftencea'S cweftende = Viri sanguinum
declinate a me; quia dicitis in cogitationibus vestris.

GSM. (1) : — 105. 17 : Hi . . , ongunnan . . . ouwendan
heora wuldor on ftsene wyrsan had hse^enstyrces hig
etendes = et mutaverunt gloriam suam in similitudinem
comedentis foenum.

B.— THE PRETERITE PARTICIPLE (20).

I. WITHOUT OBJECT (9).

NSM. (3) : — 115. 6 : iSinre fteowan sunu on $e acenned =
filius ancillse tuse; 148. 9: alceded = o ; 50. 74: geclcensod
= mundabor.

NSF. (2):— 50. 127 (Cot.): hiorte gedansod = cor con-
tritum ; 143. 10: Ic . . . singe on psalterio, iSe him swynsaS
oft mid tyn strengum getogen hearpe = cantabo tibi • in
psalterio decem chordarum psallam tibi.
8

254 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

NSN. (1) :— 128. 4 : afohten = evellatur.
NPM. (1) : — 67. 24 : gegaderade = conjuncti.
NPF. (1) :— 50. 145 (Cot.) : forgeofene = o (or pred. ?).
ASF. (1) :— 107. 9 : Hwylc gel*ede« me on lifes byrig
fseste getrymede = Quis deducet me in civitatem munitam.

II. WITH OBJECT (11).

NSM. (2) : — 77. 652 : wine druncen = crapulatus a vino ;
54. 24 : bealuinwites fsecne gefylled = dolosi.

NSF. (1) :— 50. J28 (Cot.): hiorte . . . geeadmeded inge-
•Sancum = cor . . . humiliatum.

NPF. (1) :— 50. 51 (Cot.) : ic . . . bidde «»t meforgefene
gastes wunde an forSgesceaft feran mote. [There is no
Latin correspondence to this part of 50. 51, the verse being
much amplified in the O. E. translation. Grein in Glossary
sub v. forgifan says that forgefene is accusative absolute, and
supplies ic as subject of mote. I translate as Dietrich (quoted
by Grein) : ' ut mihi condonata animi vtilnera in abolitionem
abire possint.']

NPN. (3): — 106. 36: syfrSan greowan lungre land heora
aloden waestmum = Et seminaverunt agros, et plantaverunt
vineas, et fecerunt fructum nativitatis ; 148. 10 : fugla cynn
frSerum gescyrped = volucres pennatae (may also be singu-
lar) ; 67. 17 : wserun crseta tyn "Susendo geteled rime =
currus Dei decem millibus multiplex.

DSN. (1) : — 67. 26 : on ftinurn temple tidum gehalgod,
iSaet ys on Hierusalem = a templo sancto tuo quod est in H.
(or NSM. ?).

ASF. (2) : — 59. 8 : weallum beworhte = munitam; 131. 5 :
stowe drihtne gecorene = locum Domino.

APN. (1) : — 106. 32 : He on westenne wynne streamas
softfsest sette, -Sser he sarig folc geftewde fturste -Sa blissade =
Quia posuit flumina in desertum, et exitus aquarum in
sitim.

THE APPOSITIVE PABTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 255

B.— MINOR POEMS*

AZARIAS (2).
A. — THE PRESENT PARTICIPLE (1).

I. WITHOUT OBJECT (1).
NPM. (!):—! 62: lifigende.

B. — THE PRETERITE PARTICIPLE (1).

I. WITH OBJECT (1).
NPM. (1):— 161: lege bilegde.

CALENDAR OF SAINTS (4).
A. — THE PRETERITE PARTICIPLE (4).

I. WITHOUT OBJECT (2).

NSM. (2) : — 7 : forSy se kalend us cymeft ge&incged on "Sam
ylcan dsege ; 164 : iSsette HaligrnoirS heleftum geftinged fereiS
to folce.

II. WITH OBJECT (2).

NSM. (2):— 142: wa3stmum hidden; 205: forste gefe-
terad (may be ace.).

CHARMS (4).

A. — THE PRESENT PARTICIPLE (1).
I. WITHOUT OBJECT (1).

NSM. (1) : — I. 74 : Ful secer fodres fira cinne beorht-
blowende, $u gebletsod weor^>.

* The text of the Ruin is so defective that I have taken no account of
this poem.

256 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

B. — THE PRETERITE PARTICIPLE (3).
I. WITHOUT OBJECT (2).

ASN. (1) : — I. 61 : heo si geborgen wi$ ealra bealwa
gehwylc, "Sara lyblaca geond land sawen.

APN. (1) : — I. 64 : ftset awendan ne msege word $us
gecwedene.

II. WITH OBJECT (1).

NSM. (1) : — Vin. 30 : lohannes wuldre gewlitegod.

CHRIST'S DESCENT INTO HELL, RESURRECTION,

ASCENSION, AND APPEARANCE AT

FINAL JUDGMENT (4).

A. — THE PRETERITE PARTICIPLE (4).

I. WITHOUT OBJECT (1).
APM. (1) :— 81 : gebeged.

II. WITH OBJECT (3).

NSM. (1) :— 172 : dome gewurftad.

NSN. (2) : — 284 : wynnum bewunden ; 283 : gimmum
gefrcetewod.

CREED (1).

A. — THE PRETERITE PARTICIPLE (I).

I. WITHOUT OBJECT (1).
ASM. (1) : — 10 : cyning, hider asendne.

DOOMSDAY (5).
A. — THE PRESENT PARTICIPLE (3).

I. WITHOUT OBJECT (2).

NSM. (1) : — 251 : murcnigende cwseft.
NPM. (1):— 231 : deriende gedwinaiS.

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 257

II. WITH OBJECT (1).

NPN. (1) : — 112: cumaiS hider ufon of heofone deaft
beacnigende tacen = signa minantia mortem of Latin original.

B. — THE PRETERITE PARTICIPLE (2).

I. WITH OBJECT (2).
NSM. (2) :— 290 : blostmum behangen; 252: mode gedrefed.

DREAM OF THE ROOD (Vercelli Text) (3).
A. — THE PRESENT PARTICIPLE (1).

I. WITHOUT OBJECT (1).

NSM. (1) : — 24 : Hwseftre ic $99r licgende lange hwile
beheold hreowcearig hselendes treow.

B. — THE PRETERITE PARTICIPLE (2).

I. WITHOUT OBJECT (1).

DSN. (1) :— 49 : Eall ic wses mid blode bestemed, begoten
of "Sses guman sidan.

II. WITH OBJECT (1).
ASN. (1) : — 5 : leohte bewunden.

DURHAM (1).
A. — THE PRETERITE PARTICIPLE (1).

I. WITH OBJECT (1).

NPN. (1): — 19 : Eardiaft ... in "Sem minstre unarimeda
reliquia, monia wundrum gewurftad.

258 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

EADGAR (2).
A. — THE PRETERITE PARTICIPLE (2).

I. WITH OBJECT (2).

NSM. (1) :— 28 B : hama bereafod.

NSN. (1) : — 11 A: agangen wses tynhund wintra geteled
rimes.

EADWEARD (2).
A.— THE PRETERITE PARTICIPLE (2).

I. WITHOUT OBJECT (1).
NSM. (1) :— 9 : wel geftungen.

II. WITH OBJECT (1).
NSM. (1) :— 16 : lande bereafod.

FALLEN ANGELS (DIE KLAGEN DER GEFALLENEN
ENGEL) (12).

A. — THE PRETERITE PARTICIPLE (12).

I. WITHOUT OBJECT (3).

NSM. (1) :— 181 : aworpen.
NPM. (1) :— 308 : gefrcetewod.

ASF. (1) : — 341 : Godes andsacan hweorfan geond helle,
hate onoded ufan and utan.

II. WITH OBJECT (9).

NSM. (5) :— 186 : goda bedasled; 122 : dugirSum bedeled;
121: wuldre benemed; 38: gebunden fyrclommum ; 131:
synnum forwundod.

NPM. (3): — 344: dreamum bedcelde; 52: susle begro-
rene ; 343 : wuldres bescyrede.

NPF. (1) :— 296 : sorgum bedodde.

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 259

FATES OF MEN (3).
A. — THE PRESENT PARTICIPLE (1).

I. WITHOUT OBJECT (1).

DSM. (1) : — 9 : god ana wat, hwa3t him weaxendum
winter bringe'S.

B. — THE PRETERITE PARTICIPLE (2).

I. WITH OBJECT (2).
NSM. (2) : — 55 : dreamum biscyred ; 20 : mode gebysgad.

GLORIA (2).
A. — THE PRETERITE PARTICIPLE (2).

I. WITHOUT OBJECT (2).
NSM. (2):— 10: asyndrod; 12: gebletsod.

GNOMIC VERSES (1).
A.— THE PRETERITE PARTICIPLE (1).

I. WITHOUT OBJECT. (1).
NSM. (1) :— n. 35 : to $a3S oft cymeS dea$ unhinged.

HARROWING OF HELL (HOLLENFAHRT
CHRISTI) (2).

A. — THE PRESENT PARTICIPLE (2).

I. WITHOUT OBJECT (2).

NSM. (1) :— 24 : hlyhhende sprac.
NPM. (1) : — 91 : msendon murnende.

260 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

HUSBAND'S MESSAGE (2).
A. — THE PRETERITE PARTICIPLE (2).

I. WITHOUT OBJECT (1).
NSF. (1) : — 13 : Sset "Su sinchroden sylf gernimde.

II. WITH OBJECT (1).
NSM. (1) :— 39 : nyde gebceded (MS. is defective).

HYMN (1).

A. — THE PRETERITE PARTICIPLE (1).

I. WITH OBJECT (1).
NSM. (1) : — 43 : haliges gastes fegere gefelled.

INSCRIPTION ON CROSS AT BRUSSELS (2).
A.— THE PRESENT PARTICIPLE (1).

I. WITHOUT OBJECT (1).
NSF. (1) :— 21 : bar byfigende.

B. — THE PRETERITE PARTICIPLE (1).

I. WITH OBJECT (1).
NSF. (1) :— 22 : blode bestemed.

JUDITH (9).
A. — THE PRESENT PARTICIPLE (1).

I. WITH OBJECT (1).

NPM. (1) : — 272 : Hi $a somod ealle ongunnon cohhetan,
cirman hlude 3 gristbitian gode orfeorme, mid tofton torn

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 261

ftoligende. [Cf. Guthlac 1029: torn ftoliende ; and Psalm
1119: torn toftum iSolian = dentibus freraere.]

B. — THE PRETERITE PARTICIPLE (8).
I. WITH OBJECT (8).

NSM. (2): — 67: wine swa druncen; 118: Systrum
for&ylmed.

NSF. (2): — 171: golde gefrcetewod; 129: Seawum ge-

ASF. (2) : — 36 : beaguin gehlceste; 37 : hringum gehrodene.

ASN. (1) :— 329 : golde gefrcetewod.

APF. (1) :— 339 : gerenode golde.

Note. — A. Miiller considers ftearffendre in 85 (ic %e . . .
biddan wylle miltse ftinre me ftearffendre) and geweorftod in
299 (Him on laste for sweot Ebrea sigore geweorftod) apposi-
tive; they may be, but to me the former seems attributive
and the latter predicative.

MALDON (1).
A. — THE PRETERITE PARTICIPLE (1).

I. WITHOUT OBJECT (1).

NPM. (1) : — 57 : ftset ge mid urum sceattum to scype
gangon unbefohtene (or pred. ?).

RUNESONG (2).

A. — THE PRETERITE PARTICIPLE (2).
I. WITH OBJECT (2).

NS. F. or M. (1) :— 31 : flor forste geworuht.
NSN. (1) : — 37 : wyrtrumum underwreftyd. '

262 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

SALOMO AND SATURNUS (6).
A.— THE PRESENT PARTICIPLE (3).

I. WITHOUT OBJECT (3).

NSM. (1) : — 105 : "Sonne he hangiende helle wisceft.
NPN. (1) : — 220 : aterrcynn, . . . $a $e nu weallende Surh
attres oro$ ingang rymaft.
ASF. (1) :— 447 : lifigende.

B.— THE PRETERITE PARTICIPLE (3).

I. WITHOUT OBJECT (2).

NSF. (1) :— 31 : gegoten.
NSN. (1) :— 222 : gesccened.

II. WITH OBJECT (1).
ASM. (1) :— 104 : heolstre behelmed.

SEAFARER (4).
A.— THE PRETERITE PARTICIPLE (4).

I. WITHOUT AN OBJECT (1).
NSM. (1) : — 106 : cymeS him se deaft unhinged.

II. WITH AN OBJECT (3).

NSM. (3): — 162 : winemsegum bidroren; 17: bihongen
hrimgicelum ; 161 : wynnum biloren.

SOUL AND BODY (4).
A.— THE PRETERITE PARTICIPLE (4).

I. WITHOUT OBJECT (1).

NSM. (1) : — 46 (Verc.) : ic wses gast on -Se fram gode
sended (or pred. ?).

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 263

II. WITH OBJECT (3).

NSM. (2):— 34 (Verc.) : flgesce befangen; 67 (Verc.) :
synnum gesargod.

NSN. (1) :— 105 (Verc.) : djedum gedrefed.

SPIRIT OF MEN (4).
A. — THE PRESENT PARTICIPLE (1).

I. WITH OBJECT (1).

NPM. (1) : — 82 : we sculon a hycgende haelo rsedes gemu-
nan in mode msela gehwylcum ftone selestan sigora waldend.

B. — THE PRETERITE PARTICIPLE (3).

I. WITH OBJECT (3).

NSM. (3): — 42: ftrymme gebyrmed; 41: wine gewceged;
43 : sefestum onceled.

SUMMONS TO PRAYER.

Note. — No example occurs in the Anglo-Saxon part of
this poem, but two occur in the Latin, both with an object : —
2: Dsenne gemiltsaft $e . . . ftrymcyningc throuum sedens;
25 : to fteodne thronum regenii. With both compare Phoenix
623 : ftrymsittendum.

WALDERE (1).
A. — THE PRETERITE PARTICIPLE (1).

I. WITH OBJECT (1).

NSF. (1) :— B 19 : StandeS me her on eaxelum JElfheres
laf god and geapneb, golde geweorftod (or pred. ?).

264 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

WANDERER (1).

A. — THE PRETERITE PARTICIPLE (1).

I. WITH OBJECT (1).
NSM. (1) :— 20 : efcle bidceled.

WHALE (5).
A. — THE PRESENT PARTICIPLE (1).

I. WITHOUT OBJECT (1).

NP. M. or N. (1) :— 32 : biS . . . deofla wise, «set hi droht-
ende fturh dyrne meaht dugufte beswicaft.

B. — THE PRETERITE PARTICIPLE (4).

I. WITHOUT OBJECT (1).
NSM. (1) : — 70 : gereaht (but the passage is doubtful).

II. WITH OBJECT (3).

NSM. (1) :— 45 : heoloShelme bffteakt.
NSN. (1) : — 10 : sondbeorgum ymbseald.
NPM. (1) : — 74 : gyltum gehrodene.

WIDSID (2).
A. -THE PRESENT PARTICIPLE (1).

I. WITHOUT OBJECT (1).

NSM. (1) : — 39 : ac Offa geslog aerest monna cniht wesende
cynerica msest (cf. Beow. 46, 372, 535, 1187; Bede 142. 8,
188. 1).

THE APPOSITIVF, PARTICIPLE IX AXGLO-SAXOX. 265

B. — THE PRETERITE PARTICIPLE (1).
I. WITH OBJECT (1).

NSM. (1) : — 53 : godes and yfles ftser ic cunnade cnosle
bidceled.

WONDERS OF CREATION (3).
A. — THE PRESENT PARTICIPLE (3).

I. WITHOUT OBJECT (1).

NSM. (1):— 80: witan . . . o#3e hwa -Saes leohtes lond-
buende brucan mote.

II. WITH OBJECT (2).

NPM. (2) : — 14, 15 : cufton ryht sprecan, -Sset a fricgende
fira cynnes ^ secgende searoruna gespon a gemyndge msest
monna wiston.

Note. — Bewriten of line 19 should be bewritan or bewriftan,
as several editors conjecture.

266

MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

PH ^3

S B

Cb «

I s

oo 1-1 « I-H eo e* TH ; e<5 1^ o t~ •* 10 IH co w >o

1-1 TH 1-1 •*»< : ; 10 ^H ,-t to co :«-i ; :

* I =

O^COCO J

:~ I

«>-i : : : : :

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THC-I : :c

! 8

THE APPOSITIVE PAETICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 267

CO 0> 3

rH IO CS iH C^ i-H iH . ; CO »H r-( iH US

i !

g I 8

: : : ;-<-^ • j :

ilM

S3«'« s o-S^^

Illllgllllllls

268 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

CHAPTER II.

USES OF THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE
IN ANGLO-SAXON.

The uses of the appositive participle in Anglo-Saxon may
be grouped under the three following larger heads : —

I. The Appositive Participle is equivalent to a Dependent
Adjectival (Relative) Clause, and denotes either an action or
a state, as in : — Mk. 3. 1 : ftar wses an man forscruncene
hand hcebbende = erat ibi homo habens manum aridam ;
Bede1 246. 7 : sende . . . haligne wer y in his fteawum
gemetfa3stne ^ in leornunge . . . wel gelceredne = 194. 28 :
misit . . . uirum sanctum, . . . scripturarum lectione suffi-
cienter instructum; Beow. 624: ftset hio Beowulfe, beaghroden
cwen, mode geftungen medoful setbser ; Aelf. L. S. 28. 58 :
On ftam ylcan daBge com sum bisceop, helenus gehaten.

II. The Appositive Participle is equivalent to a Dependent
Adverbial (Conjunctive) Clause, and denotes time, manner,
means, etc., as in : — Bede 8. 23b : $a brynas . . . gebidden.de
adwsescte = 37. 5 : incendia orando restinxerit ; ib. 10. 10 :
pset se ylca biscop geworden onbead = 48. 1 : Ut idem
episcopus factus mandarit ; Beow. 480 : Ful oft gebeotedon
beore druncne ofer ealowaBge oretmecgas.

III. The Appositive Participle is substantially equivalent
to an Independent Clause, and either (1) denotes an accom-
panying circumstance or (2) repeats the idea of the principal
verb. Doubtless, as Gildersleeve holds (Latin Grammar,
§ 664, Remark 1), an ultimate analysis would show every
participle to be dependent in nature ; but the dependence
here is so slight that it may be ignored. Certainly the
function of the participles under this head is so radically

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IX ANGLO-SAXON. 269

different from that of those under I. and II. as to demand
separate consideration. Nor does the fact that in modern
English we not infrequently retain the participle in our trans-
lation of (2) (cf. Mat. 13. 3) invalidate this classification. To
define the class negatively : all appositive participles that are not
equal to either a dependent adjectival or a dependent adverbial
clause are considered as equal to an independent clause.
This use of the participle is commonly recognized by Greek
and Latin grammarians. Thus, in the remark just cited,
Gildersleeve admits this use of the participle, although he
objects to its being classed as co-ordinate: "It is sometimes
convenient to translate a Participle Sentence by a co-ordinate
clause, but the Participle itself is never co-ordinate, and
such clauses are never equivalents." Goodwin also recog-
nizes this use; in § 832-§ 844 of his Moods and Tenses he
designates the relations expressed by his " Circumstantial Par-
ticiple " as follows : (1) time, (2) means, (3) manner, (4) cause,
(5) purpose, (6) condition, (7) concession, (8) "any attendant
circumstance, the participle being merely descriptive;" (9)
" that in which the action consists." His (8) and (9) cover
exactly the ground of my " participle substantially equivalent
to an independent clause;" and it seems to me that to give
this use the name Co-ordinate is in the interest of simplicity.
This modification made, Goodwin's " Circumstantial Parti-
ciple" would tally perfectly with my "Participle equivalent
to a dependent adverbial clause." Fay (/. c.) and Milroy (p. 1 6)
explicitly state that the participle is occasionally equivalent to
a co-ordinated finite verb. If I dwell on this co-ordinate
use of the participle, it is because it has received but scant
treatment in our standard English and German grammars
(see March, § 459 (4), Matzner, in, p. 70 (c), and von
Jagemann, § 124, c), and is not mentioned in any of the
dissertations on Anglo-Saxon or Germanic syntax that have
come under my notice. Examples are as follows: — (1): —
Lk. 4. 39 : he standende ofer hig $am fefore bebead = stans
super illam imperavit febri ; ib. 10. 23 : pa cwsej> he to his
9

270 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

leorningcnihtum bewend = Et conversus ad discipulos suos
dixit; — Aelf. L. S. 146. 458: behyddon his . . . lichaman . . .
secgende; Mat. 8. 25: hy awehton hyne $us cweftende =
suscitaverunt eura dicentes ; — (2): — Mat. 11. 25: Se hselynd
cwse]? andswariende = respondens Jesus dixit; ib. 13. 3: he
sprsec to hyra fela on bigspelluru, cwe8(>nde = Et locutus est
eis multa in parabolis, dicens; Aelf. L. S. 80. 523: sprsec
mid . . . reorde god herigende.

The relative frequency of these three uses of the appositive
participle — the adjectival, the adverbial, and the co-ordi-
nate— may be gathered from these figures : of the adjectival
there are about 1223 instances in all, 881 in the prose and
342 in the poetry ; of the adverbial, about 897 instances,
691 in the prose and 206 in the poetry; of the co-ordinate,
about 890 instances, 871 in the prose and 19 in the poetry.
In all about 3010 examples of the appositive participle have
been collected, of which 1784 are present and 1226 are
preterite.

So much by way of general statement; let us now con-
sider the three classes in detail.

I. THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE is EQUIVALENT TO A
DEPENDENT ADJECTIVAL (RELATIVE) CLAUSE.

As we have seen, the adjectival is the commonest use of
the appositive participle in Anglo-Saxon, about 1223 examples
occurring in all. Of this number 881 occur in the prose, and
342 in the poetry, in each distributed throughout all periods.

The adjectival use is found with both the present and the
preterite participles, but is far more frequent with the latter
than with the former. About 377 examples occur of the present
participle, and about 846 of the preterite. Examples of
each participle are given below.

The present participle, in this use, has the power of
governing a direct object, but it occurs far more frequently

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IX ANGLO-SAXON. 271

without an object than with one, especially in Early West
Saxon and in the poetry, in the latter of which an object is
almost unknown. In all we have 270 present participles
without an object and 107 with an object. [See the dis-
cussion of the Governing Power of the Participle, in
Chapter III.]

The past participle, too, can have an object (see Explana-
tory Note to Statistics), and in the poetry usually does ; in
prose the reverse is the case. Of the preterite participles
used adjectivally, 609 have no object, of which 525 are
found in the prose and 84 in the poetry; while 237 do have
an object, of which 39 are from the prose and 198 from
the poetry.

As stated in my Introduction, not a few scholars deny the
adjectival use to the appositive participle, and class all parti-
ciples that are equivalent to a relative clause as attributive.
I have, however, already explained why I do not accept this
view, and have shown that the meaning of the term apposi-
tive participle has been extended to include participles equal
to 'relative clauses. Still other scholars admit that the parti-
ciple equivalent to a relative clause may be used appositively,
but only, they maintain, when the participle denotes an act
(in the largest sense) ; that which denotes a state or condition
being called attributive. It appears to me that, in so doing,
these grammarians are confounding two distinct things, viz,,
the classification of the participle by its nature and the
classification by its syntactical relationship, — a confusion that
should be avoided. But I have not ignored the object at
which these scholars aim, namely, sharply to discriminate
between the participle that has strong verbal (assertive)
power and the participle that has strong adjectival (descrip-
tive) power ; on the contrary, by arranging the whole of my
statistics with reference to whether or not the participle is
followed by an object, and by emphasizing the co-ordinate
use of the participle, I have tried to segregate the more
verbal from the less verbal participles to a degree not

272 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

attempted hitherto in Anglo-Saxon. To apply this principle
to the matter in hand, the participle that is equivalent to an
adjectival (relative) clause : the transitive participle with
an object is manifestly nearer a verb than the participle
without an object. Again, the preterite participle is more
like an adjective than is the corresponding present participle.
This will sufficiently explain the chief differences between
my statistics and those of former investigators as to the
adjectival use of the appositive participle.

The adjectival use occurs in most of the texts, prose and
poetical, and I give a few examples here from the chief
writers in prose and in poetry.

I. In Prose.

jE/fred:—Bedel 8. 2 : pset P . . . WBBS siended to gely-
fendum Scottum on Crist = 28. 15 : Ut . . . P. ad Scottos in
Christum credentes missus est. — 76. 78. 15: iSset wiif in
blodes flownesse geseted . . . meahte gehrinan = 55. 25 : Si
ergo in fluxu . . . posita . . . potuit tangere. — Boeih. 46. 27 :
Hwset is heora nu to lafe, butan se lytla hlisa 3 se nama mid
feaum stafum awriten? = 47. 17: Signat superstes fama
tenuis pauculis Inane nomen litteris. — Greg.1 155. 10 : ftonne
he ongiet be sumum ftingum oftiSe fteawum utanne cetiewdum
call ftset hie innan •Sencea'S = 112a: qui discussis quibusdam
signis exterius apparentibus ita corda . . . penetrat etc.

Ps. Th. : — 20. 3 : $u sendest his heafod kynegold, mid
deorwyrSum gimmum astcened = posuisti in capite ejus
coronam de lapide pretioso.

Chron. : — 755 F. : Sibertes broker, Cynehard gehaten,
ofsloh Cynewulf on Merantune.

Laws : — Alfred, c. 9, Title : Be bearneacnum wife ofslcege-
num [MS. B. : Be "Sam -Sset man ofslea wif mid cilde].

Bened.1 : — 25. 16 : and nu fram $am englum us betcehtum
ure weorc . . . beoft gebodude = 50. 13: et ab angelis nobis
deputatis . . . opera nostra nuntiantur.

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 273

Bl. Horn. 11. 7 : ArweorSian we Crist on binne asetene.

jEtfric: — L. S. 54. 83 : gewendon to ... byrig, Antiochia
geciged (sic!). — Ib. 78. 4941&2: Effrem wses gehaten sum
swifie halig abbod on wsestene wunigende, fela wundra
wyrcende.

Gosp. : — Mat. 8. 9 : SoiSlice ic corn man under anwealde
gesett = Nam et ego homo sum sub potestate constitutus. —
Ib. 8. 17 : Sset waere gefylled ftset gecweden is $urh esaiam
Sone witegan, -Sus cweftende (sic!). — Ib. 11. 16 : heo ys gelic
sittendum cnapun on foretige = Similis est pueris sedentibus
in foro.

Wulfst. : — 4G. 7 : wa eow, . . . fte lecgaiS togsedere hamas
and sehta on unriht begytene on seghwilce healfe. — 181. 29 :
ealle gemsenelice, gehadode and laewede, bugon to gode georne.

II. In Poetry.

Beow.: — 777: ftser fram sylle abeag medubenc monig
mine gefraBge, golde geregnad. — Ib. 1645: pa com in gan
ealdor iSegna, dsedcene mon dome gewurftad.

EL: — 331: ftser on ^rymme bad . . . geatolic givScwen
golde gehyrsted (or pred. ?). — Ib. 352 : Swa hit eft be eow
Essaias witga for weorodum wordum mselde, deophycggende
•Surh dryhtnes gast.

Gen.: — 725 : hloh "Sa y plegode boda bitre gehugod. — Ib.
1836: hwset sie freondlufu ellfteodigra uncer twega, feorren
cumenra.

II. THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE is EQUIVALENT TO A
DEPENDENT ADVERBIAL (CONJUNCTIVE) CLAUSE.

Of the adverbial use of the appositive participle I have
found about 897 examples, 691 in the prose and 206 in
the poetry.

The present participle occurs 538 times in this use, and
the past participle 359 times.

274 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

Of the present participles 430 have no object and 108 have ;
of the preterite participles 261 have no object, while 98 have.

In its adverbial use the appositive participle denotes
subordinate relations of manner and means (combined here
under the head of Modal), of time, of cause, of purpose, of
concession, and of condition. Of course, these uses so
interlap that at times the same participle can with propriety
be put under several different heads. Where classification
is so largely a matter of subjectivity, there must be much
room for difference of opinion. I trust, however, that in
the main my classification will justify itself to my readers.
According to my estimate, the approximate number of each
use is: Modal, 319; Temporal, 248; Causal, 228; Final,
40; Concessive, 33; Conditional, 29.

Let us look at each for a moment by itself.

I. MODAL.

The Modal use of the appositive participle is far more
frequent in Anglo-Saxon prose than in the poetry, 257
examples occurring in the former and 62 in the latter.

Of these 319 examples 254 are present and 65 are past.

An object is rarely used with the modal participle, only
16 occurring with the present participle and 22 with the
preterite.

Though occurring in all periods of Anglo-Saxon, the modal
participle is much more common in the works of Alfred than
in those of any other author. In his Bede and his Gregory
the construction is especially frequent, about one-third of all the
examples being found in these two works. Here, as my
statistics show, the Anglo-Saxon participle often translates a
Latin gerund in the ablative ; and the frequency of the
gerund in the two originals has doubtless caused the large
number of modal participles in the two translations.

As stated above, the modal participle denotes both manner
and means. It is not always easy to tell which notion

THE APPOSIT1VE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 275

predominates, but the examples below will, it is hoped,
sufficiently illustrate the two tendencies.

Some participles denoting manner, instead of being equiva-
lent to a dependent adverbial clause, are practically equivalent
to a simple adverb, as in : Bede1 86. 22a&b : ftset he wceccende
•Sohte Sast he [wo] weotende arafnde = 60. 28 : quia, quod
cogitauit seiens, hoc pertulit nesciens ; ib. 38. 1 : pa ... he
ealle $a witu . . . geftyldelice 3 gefeonde abser = 20. 1 : Qui
. . . patienter haBC pro Domino, im mo gaudenter ferebat; ib.
310. 30: pas we seondon arfsestlice fylgende ^ rihtwuldriende
= 239. 23 : Hos itaque sequentes nos pie atque orthodoxe ;
jElf. Horn. 1. 52 b: he for -Ssem staBiiendum welwittende gebsed ;
Mat. 5. 11 : secgea'S selc yfel ongen eow leogende for me =
dixerint ornne malum adversum vos mentientes propter me;
etc., etc. Personally 1 believe it would be better to class such
words as participial adverbs rather than adverbial participles ;
but, as I hesitate to set up new categories, in my statistics
I have retained them under the ordinary rubric, save in one
or two cases that could not be construed as participles, like
ftreagende (Greg.1 159. 18, etc.: see Statistics). This use of
the participle as an adverb, it is well known, is common in
Greek (see Goodwin, Greek Grammar, § 1564) and in Latin
(see Gildersleeve, Latin Grammar, § 325. 6). In Old High
German it was so very frequent that there was developed a
regular adverbial form of the participle in -o (O. Erdmann,
Syntax der Sprache Off rids, § 359 ; see below, Chapter V.). I
have not, however, found this use of the participle treated in
Koch, Matzner, March, or in the dissertations on Old English
syntax. There is perhaps a suggestion of it in Cosijn (n., p.
97), who writes of Greg.1 159. 18 : " adverbialisch Kreag'ende?"
Further illustrations are given under "(2) Manner" below.

(1) J/mn.v.
I. In Prose.

JElfred: — Bed*1 22.9: paet se b. senne dumbne nionn
gebiddende gehaelde = 282. 30 : Ut episcopus mutum benedi-

276 MORGAN CALL A WAY, JR.

cendo curauerit. So gebiddende = orando in Bede1 22. 11,
22. 14, etc. — Ib. 72. 3a&b : fette oft [seo cirice] -5set wifter-
worde yfel abeorende 3 celdend bewere$=51. 29: nt ssepe
malum quod aduersatur portando et dissimulando conpescat. —
Greg.1 53. 16: Sua si micla crseftiga hitrtende toscyfft & egesi-
ende stierS ofermetta mid 'Ssere tselinge his hieremonnum, ^set
he hie gebringe on life = 30a : Magnus enim rfgendi artifex
favonbus impellit, terroribus retrahit : ut etc. — Ib. 81. 10, 11 :
is ^set he sprecende bebiet ^set he ^set wyrcende oiSiewe,
hit -Surh •Sone fultum sie forSgenge = 54a : quia quod
loquendo imperat, ostendendo adjuvat ut fiat. — Ib. 127. 6, 7:
ftset mod his hieremonna oliccende egesige & ftreatigevde olicce
= 88b : terrendo demulceat, et tamen ad terroris reverentiam
(Icniulcendo constringat. — Ib. 225. 22 : fta monn^wsernesse "5e
he a?r 'Surhtogen hsefde eft fteahtigende on yfel gewend [Cot-
ton MS.: gewent] =170b : et mansuetudinem, quam tolerantes
habuerunt, retractantes in malitiam vertunt.

Bened.1: — 2. 10: nellen ge elciende eowere heortan ahyrdan
= 4. 15 : nolite obdurare corda vestra.

Bl. Horn. : — 89. 34a&b : ra^e he lifgende ut code of his byr-
genne mid his agenre mihte aweht.

jE/f/ic: — Horn. 1. 226b: Mare miht wa3S, ^a3t he $one deaiS
mid his seriste tobrsec, "Sonne he his lif geheolde, of $a3re
rode astigende. — Ib.^ n. 182a2: ftone 'Se B. na handlunge ac
on-beseonde fram his bendum alysde.

Gosp. : — LJc. 12. 25 : Hwylc eower ma3g ^encende ican ane
elne to his anlicnesse ? = Quis autem vestrum cogitando
potest adjicere ad staturam suam cubitnm unum ? — Mk. 15.
30 : gehsel "Se sylfne of "SaBre rode stigende = Salvum fac
temetipsum descendens de cruce.

II. In Poetry.

EL : — 449 : Ne ma3g a3fre ofer ftset Ebrea -Seod rcedfteaht-
ende rice healdan. [May be adjectival, as Schiirmann and
Garnett hold.]

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 277

( 2 ) M a nner .
I. In Prose.

JEIfred: — Bedt1 72.9: "Sa -Se him ne ondrsecla'S wrotonde
syngian = 52. 1 : qui non met mint sciendo peccare. — Ib.
102. 21: is sjegd $83t he beotigende forecwsede = 83. 27:
fertur minitans prsedixisse. — Boeth.1 3. 7 : Hu B. liine sing-
ende gebsed, ^ his earfoftu to Gode nirande. — Ib. 9. 29 :
Ongan $a giddien, 3 3us singende cwseft. — Ib. 8. 15: pa ic
$a iSis leoiS, cwseiS B., geomricnde asungen hsefde, $a com
etc. = 4.2: Hasc dum mecum tacit us ipse reputarem querimoni-
amque lacrimabilem stili officio signarem, adstitisse . . . uisa
est mulier etc. — Greg.1 185. 9: seresiS mon sceal sprecan
ascieiide, suelce he be oftrimi menn sprece & ascie = 138a:
prius per quasdam similiiudincs velut de alieno riegotio
requirendi sunt. — Ib. 405. 31 : hi ofermodgiende his gebod
forhogdon = superbiens ejus jussa contempsit. — Ib. 379. 23 :
Hie Fceoldon gehieran hu Essaias se witga hreowsigende hine
selfne taslde = 294b : Audiant quod Isaias magna voce pceni-
tentice se ipse reprehendit. — Ib. 381. 25: c\va3iS ^set"Sa scolden
bion synderlice Godes 'Segnas, ^a "Se unwandiende -Sara
scyldegena gyltas ofslogen = 296b : illos a parte Dei de-
rm ntiavit existere, qui delinquentium Fcelera incundanter
ferirent dicens (or adverb?). — Ib. 117. 23 : ForSam we becrS
mid Gode sua micle suitor gebundne sua we for monnum
orsorglicor ungewitnode syngia^ = 82a : Tanto ergo aj)iid Domi-
num obligatiores sumus, quanto apud homines inulte peccamns.

^Elfric : — Horn. 1. 54b : "Sa3t ^u scealt miltsigende forgifan. —
76. i. 340al : he hit beer on his exlum to ftaere eowde blissigende.
Gosp.: — Mat. 6. 5 : "Sa lufiaiS 'Sset hig gebiddon hi standende
on gesomnungum = qui amant in synagogis . . . stantes
orare. — Mk. 5. 40 : inn-eodon suwiende "Sar ^a3t mseden wass
= inirreditur ubi puella erat jacens. — Ib. 9. 24 : wepende
cwa^S = cum lacrymis aiebat. — Lk. 22. 65 : manega oiSre
"Sing hig him to cwsedon dysigende = alia multa blasphe-
mantes dicebant in eum.

278 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

II. Iii Poetry.

Beow. 2062 : him se ofter ftonan losaft wigende, con him
land geare. [If we adopt Heyne's lifigende, the participle
is Final instead of Modal. See below under Final]. — Ib. 2235 :
swa hy on geardagum gnmena nathwylc eormenlafe seftelan
cynnes ftanchycgende iSser gehydde. — Ib. 2595 : niwan stefne
nearo ftrowode fyre befongen, se $e a3r folce weold. [May
be Adjectival, but is more probably Modal, as K. Kohler
puts it.]

Andr. 1 557 : Lean, hygegeotnor, heofende sprac. [May be
Adjectival.]

Gen. 1582 : ac he hlihende broftrum sa3gde.

IT. TEMPORAL.

The second most frequent use of the adverbial appositive
participle is to denote relations of time. If we use the term
temporal in a very broad sense, no doubt a number of parti-
ciples that I have put under other rubrics might be put here,
since almost any participle may be looked upon as indicating
afier a fashion a time relationship. But I have classed as
temporal only those participles in which the idea of time
seems definite rather than general. Of the 248 temporal
participles in Anglo-Saxon, 200 are found in the prose, and
48 in the poetry.

Of these participles 166 are in the present tense, and 82
in the preterite.

As with the modal participle, so here an object is rare;
28 occurring with the present participle and 10 with the
preterite.

As my table shows, the temporal participle is sprinkled
throughout the periods of Anglo-Saxon.

Examples follow : —

I. In Prose.

dEffred : — Bede1 214. 11: swa eft onfysed iSy lichamon
byrneiS = 166. 4: ita solutus corpora ardebit. — Ib. 264. 25:

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 279

song $a ingongende ealle gefylde = 208. 25 : quod wgressa
[= uox] totum impleuit. — Ib. 142. 8 : ssegde he $£et he
hine [i. e., here, sanctuary] cneoht weosende gesawe (MS. Ca :
hine cufte cniht wesende) = 116. 12: se in pucritia uidisse
testabatnr. — Greg.1 93. 9 : Hit is gecueden ftset se sacerd
scolde sweltan, gif se sweg nsere of him gehiered segfter ge
inngongendum ge ufgongendum, etc. = 62b : Saeerdos naraque
ingrediens vel egrediens moritur, si de eo sonitus non audi-
tur. — Ib. 399. 14: Sio Segor gehselde Lothfleondne = 31 8a:
Segor civitas, quse fugienlem salvet infirmum.

jE/ffie: — Horn. I. 232* : Crist ableovv ^one Halgan Gast
ofer $a apostolas, ^a-gyt wunigende on eorSan. — Ib. n. 250b 2 :
Se H. $a stod on 'Sam domerne gelcedd.

Gosp. : — Mat. 7. 6 : hig ftonne ongean gewende eow tosly-
tou = conversi dirumpant vos. — Mk. 15. 15 : sealde him "Sone
hselend beswuiigemie = tradidit Jesuni flagellis ccesum (or
Adjectival ? ).

II. In Poetry.

Beow.: — 535: Wit $a3t gecwsedon cniht-wtsende. — Ib. 815:
W8B.s gehwse^er o^rum lifigende la^.

El.: — 529: Dus mec fa3der min on fyrndagum unweax-
enne wordum Iserde.

Gen.: — 2169: ac ic $e lifigende her wift vveana gehwam
wreo 3 scylde.

III. CAUSAL.

Of the 228 Causal Participles, 1 57 belong to the prose and
71 to the poetry.

The present participle is found 56 times, the preterite 172
times.

An object occurs with the present participle in 23 instances,
and with the preterite in 51 instances.

The causal use is pretty evenly distributed throughout the
various prose and poetical texts.

Not a few of the examples are doubtful.

280 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

I. In Prose.

jElfred: — Bede1 8. 5: pset Bryttas mid -Sy mserran
hungre genedde ~Sa elreordian of heora gemserum adrifan =
29. 12: Ut Brettones fame famosa coacti barbaros suis e
finibus pepulerint. — Ib. 62. 13 : he fta grfeoiide wses gefulwod
= 47. 22: credens baptizatus est. — Ib. 186. 31 : ac heo swa
ondrcedende from him gewat = 151. 10: quin in tantum
timens aufugit.

JElfric: — Horn. I. 380b2: he feallende tobserst on feower
sticca. — Ib. I. 594b 1 : Egeas gecebyligd het hine ahon.

Gos. : — Mk. 3. 5b : ofer liyra heortan blindnesse geunret
ewseft = eontristatus super esecitate . . . dicit. — Mat. 14. 8 :
Da cwseft heo frain hyre meder gemyngod = At ilia prcemonita
a matre sua . . . inquit (or Temporal?). — Ib. 15. 31: swa
"Sa3t ^a msenegu wundredon geseonde dumbe sprecende etc. =
Ita lit turbaB mirarentur videntes mutos loquentes. — Lk. 4. 28:
Da wurdon hig ealle on ftsere gesamnnnge mid yrre gefylled,
$as ^ing gehyrende = Et repleti stint omnes in synagoga ira,
audientes.

II. In Poetry.

Andr. 436 : wseteregesa sceal geftyd y geftreatod ^urh
cining, lagu laceude Iii5ra wyrftan. — Ib. 746 : oftfte sel nyton
mode gemyrde.

El. 1128: he "San nesglao onfeng egesan geaclod ^ "Sa3re
arwyrSan cvvene brohte.

Gen. 1571 : SwrSe on slsepe sefa nearwode, ^a3t he ne mihte
on gemynd drepen hine handum self mid hraegle wryon "3
sceome iSeccan.

IV. FINAL.

The appositive participle denoting purpose is rare, only 40
examples having been found ; 39 in the prose, and 1 in the
poetry (doubtful).

This use is confined almost exclusively to the present parti-
ciple ; but one example occurs in the preterite (JE7//K Horn. I.
134b), and that is doubtful.

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 281

The final participle has an object oftener than not ; of the
39 present participles 35 have an object. The single example
of the preterite participle has no object.

A glance at the table will show that only three examples
have been found in Early West Saxon : two in JBede, each
answering to a Latin participle ; and one in Gregory, cor-
responding to a Latin infinitive of purpose. Most of the
examples occur in JEtfritfa Homilies and in the Gospels.

Among the examples may be cited : —

I. In Prose.

JZ/fred: — Bede1 10. 7: bodode ; *j swa mid his lef-
nysse Godes word bodigcnde on Cent code = 44. 25 : sic
Cantiam prcedicaturus intrauerit (or Pred. ?). — Ib. 276. 12:
licode us efencuman sefter fteawe arwyrSra rehta smeagende
be "Sam etc. = 215. 1 : placuit conuenire nos, tradaturos de
etc. — Greg.1 61. 3: Se Ia3ce . . . $e ga3$ aBfter o$ra monna
husum Icecnigende = 36a : percussum mederi properat.

Bened.1 135. 27 : sume heora fnada and wraadas gerniccliaft,
idel lof frarn mannum begytende = 232. 2 : alii fimbrias et
phylacteria sua magnificant, gloriam captantes ab hominibus.
— Ib. 134. 13 : Ofter cyn is muueca, $e feor fram mannum
gewitaft oud westestowa and selsetu and anwunung gelufiaiS,
geefenlcecende Elian = 231. 6: Secundum genus est ererui-
tarum qui, procul ab hominibus recedentes, deserta loca et
vastas solitudines sequi, atque habitare perhibenter, ad imita-
tionem scilicet EliaB.

JElfric: — Horn. 1. 74a : Hi ^Sa begcn ftone apostol gesohton,
his miltsunge biddende. — Ib. 1. 134b: gebrohte Saet cild "Se
heo acende, H. C., gelacod to $am Godes temple (or adjec-
tival?).— Ib. 1. 338b: "Sonue forlset he ^5a nigon and huud-
nigontig on westene and ga?$ secende iSast an ~Se him losode "
[or Pred. ? Cf. Mat. 1 8. 12 : gse$ and sec$ = vadit quaerere],

Gosp.: — Mat. 19. 3: pa geneala3hton him to farisaei hyne
costnigende y cwsedon = Et accesserunt ad eum Phari^sei ten-

282 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

tantes eum, et dicentes. — Lk. 2. 45 : hig gevvendon to hieru-
salem hyne secende = regressi sunt in Jerusalem requirentes
eura. — J. 6. 6 : ftset he cwayS his fandigende = Hoc auteni
dicebat tentans eura. So J. 8. 6 : fandiende.

II. In Poetry.

~Beow. 2062 : if we read lififfende; but we have the modal
use if we read wigende (see above, under Modal).

Dan. 355 : wearS se hata lig todrifen "j todwsesced, iSaer $a
dsedhwaton geond iSone ofen eodon 3 se engel mid, feorh
nerigende, se 'Se Sser feorSa wees, Annanias 7 Azarias 3 Misoel
(orpred.?).

V. CONCESSIVE.

The concessive use of the appositive participle is somewhat
rarer even than the final. 33 examples occur in all, 25 in
the prose, and 8 in the poetry.

Of these 19 are in the present, and 14 in the past tense.

An object is very rare, only 4 occurring with each of the
two participles.

As to its distribution, but three examples have been found
in Early West Saxon, namely, one each in Bede, Gregory,
and Otosius, the two first corresponding to Latin participles,
and all being doubtful. Most of the instances are in the
Gospels. One example occurs in each of these poems :
Beowulf, Elene, Genesis, Guthlac, Juliana, and Metres of
Boethius, and two in the Phoenix.

The following will serve as examples : —

I. In Prose.

JE:fred:—Bedel 278. 18b: Gif he sene si]?a onfongen,
haten ham hweorfan, ne wille, etc. = 216. 16b: Quod si semel
susceptus noluerit inuitatus redire, etc. [May be temporal,
as Miller translates.] — Greg. 153. 1 : Ac monige scylda open-

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 283

lice witene beofl to forberanne = 110a : Nonnulla an tern
vel aperte cognita, mature toleranda sunt, etc. [May be
adjectival.] — Oron. 250. 14: wEfter flsem Germanic gesohton
Agustus ungeniedde him to frifle. [May be modal.]

JE/fric : — Horn. I. 596b 8 : foi flan fle he ne geswicfl sofl to
bodigenne, nu twegen dagas cucu hangigende.

Gosp.: — Mat. 13. 13a&b: forflam ic spece to him mid
bigspellum, forflam fle lociende hig ne geseofl 3 gehyrende
hig ne gehyrafl = quia videntes non videat, et audientes non
audiunt. So: Mk. 4. 12a&b; Lk. 8. lQa&b.— Lk. 5. 5b :
Eala bebeodend ealle niht swincende we naht ne gefengon =
Prseceptor, per totam noctem laborantes, nihil cepimus. — Ib.
6. 35 : Isene syllaiS nan $ing ^anum eft gehihtmde = date,
nihil inde sperantes.

II. In Poetry.

Beow. 2350 : for fton he eer fela nearo neftende ni~5a gedigde.
[K. Kohler classes as modal, but Garnett translates as con-
cessive. J

Gen. 2649 : Me ssegde ser fleet wif hire wordum selfa
unfiicgendum, flset etc.

Guth. 1260: Bad se fle sceolde eadig on elne endedogor
awrecen wselstrselum. [Furkert : Pred. after intransitive
verb, but Gollancz translates as appositive and conces-
sive.]

Jut. 241 : Symle heo wuldorcyning herede set heortan
heofonrices god in flam nydclafan, nergend fira, heolstre
bihehnad.

Phoenix: 162 : Donne waflum strong west gewitefl wintrum
gebyxgad fleogan feflrum snel. — Ib. 368 : Forflon he drusende
deafl ne bisorgafl.

Metres of Bo eth. 11. 34: Swa hseffl geheaflserod hefonrices
weard mid his anwealde ealle gesceafta, flset hiora eeghwilc
wifl ofler winfl, ^ fleah winnende wrefliafl fseste = 48. 3 :
Quod pugnantia semina foedus perpetuum tenent.

284 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

VI. CONDITIONAL.

Least frequent of all the adverbial uses of the appositive
participle is the conditional. Of the 29 examples 13 are in
the prose and 16 in the poetry.

The present participle is used 4 times, the preterite 25.

Twice the present participle has an object, and 11 times
the preterite participle.

In Early West Saxon, I have found only 4 examples (1 in
Bede and 3 in Boethius). Late West Saxon, also, has very
few examples, there being one doubtful example m^Elfrie and
two in the Gospels. In the poetry are represented Beowulf (2),
Genesis (3), Exodus (2), Eadgar (1), Andreas (3), Elene (2),
Riddles (2), and Metrical Psalms (1).

As my quotations show, several of these examples are
quite doubtful.

Typical examples are : —

I. In Prose.

Alfred:— Bede1 278. 18a: Gif he ame si$a ovfongen haten
ham hweorfan [ne wille] = 216. 16a : Quod si sernel susceptus
noluerit inuitatus redire etc. — Boeth.1 30. 25, 26 : Ac gif hi
yfele sint 3 lytige ftonne sint hi 3e pliolicran 3 geswincfulran
hcefd iSonne ncefd; forSsem yfele iSegnas bio$ simle heora
hlafordes fiend = 37. 47 f. : Qui si uitiosi moribus sint, per-
niciosa domus sarcina et ipsi domino uehementer inimica. —
Ib. 91.8: Ne mseg ic nane cwuce wuht ongitan $ara i5e wite
hwset hit wille, o$$e hwset hit nylle, $e ungened lyste for-
weorSan = 78. 45 : nihil inuenio, quod nullis extra cogentibus
abiciant manendi intentionem et ad interiturn sponte festinent.

Bened.1 28. 2 : geneadod to anre mile gange, gang willes
twa = 54. 7 : angariati milliario vadunt duo. — Ib. 28. 6.

Gosp.: — Mk. 7. 15 : Nis nan fting of ^am men gangende
iSset hiiie besmitan maege = Nihil est extra hominem introien*
in eum quod possit eum coinquinore. [May be adjectival or

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IX ANGLO-SAXON. 285

temporal.] — Ib. 7. 18 : Ne ongyte ge ftset eall "Sset utan cynvS
on iSone man gangende ne maeg hine besmitan? = Non intelli-
gitis quia omne extrinsecus introiens etc. [May be temporal.]

II. In Poetry.

Be.w. 1368, 1370: fteah $e haySstapa hundum geswenced,
heorot hornum trum holtvvudu sece, feorran geflymed, ser he
feorh seleS.

Gen. 1263: SifrSan hundtwelftig geteled rime wintra on
worulde wrsece bisgedon fsege Seoda. So geteled rinie(s) :
Gen. 1336, 2344; Exod. 372; Andr. 1035; Eadgar 11 ; EL
2 and 634; Heir. Ps. 67. 17.

-E#od. 232 : Wees on anra gehwam seftelan cynnes alesen
under liiidum leoda dugnfte on folcgetsel fiftig cista ; hsefde
cista gehwilc cuftes werodes garberendra, gu"Sfremmendra -x-
hund geteled tireadigra.

Andr. 883 : Swylce we gesegon for suna meotudes seiSelum
ecne eowic standan, twelfe getealde, tireadige hseleft.

Riddle* 24. 15, 16: Nelle ic unbunden senigum hyran
nymfte searosceled. Saga, hwaet ic hatte ! [24. 15 may be
temporal.]

III. THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE is SUBSTANTIALITY
EQUIVALENT TO AN INDEPENDENT CLAUSE.

Of the 890 co-ordinate participles 871 are found in the
prose, and 19 in the poetry.

The present participle occurs 869 times, and the preterite
21 times.

An object is found far more frequently with the co-ordi-
nate than with the adjectival or the adverbial participle,
there being 633 instances with the present, and 2 with the
past participle.

The co-ordinate participle is very rare in Early West Saxon
and in the poetry ; and whenever it occurs in the works of
10

286 MORGAN CALL A WAY, JR.

j it is in translation of a Latin appositive participle.
It is very common in Benedict, in the works of jE/fric, in
the Gospels, and in BeneL

I add a few examples to those already given in defining
the co-ordinate use of the appositive participle. They are
arranged under two heads: (1) the participle denotes an
accompanying circumstance; (2) the participle repeats the
idea of the principal verb. The former may conveniently be
designated as the " circumstantial " participle in the narrower
sense; the latter, as the " iterating" participle.

(1) The "Circumstantial" Participle.
I. In Prose.

Alfred:— Bede1 312. 23a&b: we wuldriaS usserne Drihten
swa swa iSas wuldredon, noht tooetecende oft^e onweg ateonde =
240. 18a&b: glorificamus Dominum sicut . . ., nihil addentes
uel subtrahentes. — Ib. 312. 25, 27 : 3a fte heo onfengon we eac
swelce oufoft, wuldriende God FaBder ^ his Sunn = 240. 20, 21,
22 : ... suscipimus, (//or^ccmfcs Deum et filium eius. — Ib. 332.
16: Forfton $e in $gem ilcan mynstre. . . Hereswift . . .
regollicum fteodscipum underfteodcd, in iSa tid baad $one ecan
sige = 253. 10 : Nam H., . . ., regularibns subdita diseipli-
nis ; expectabat (doubtful). — Other examples: — Bede 10.
12 : biddende = patens; 14. 4 : biddende = postulans ; 310.
1 : feohtende = compugnantes ; 438. 30 : sittende = residens.
— Oros.1 12. 32, 33: ftonne for'S i5onan west irnende heo
tolrS on twa ymb an igland ~Se mon hast Meroan, j ^onan
bugende ut on ftone Wendelsaj . . . $a3t seo ea bi^ flowende ofer
eal ^gypta lond = 13. 20, 22 : JEgyptus inferior . . . habet
. . . fluviuraque Nilum, qui etc. . . . deinde diu ad occasum
profluens, faciensque insulam nomine Meroen in media sui :
novissime ad septentrionem inflexus plana ^Egypti rigat.

Chron. 656 E (p. 33*) : seo papa seonde $a his writ $us
cwa&end (or adjectival ?). So 675 E (p. 35b).

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IX ANGLO-SAXON. 287

Bened.1 30. 3: swigean heatdcnde ne sprece oft i5set he geah-
sod sy = 56. 19: taciturnitateai habens usque ad interroga-
tionem non loqnatur.

JBifriei — Horn. 1. 48a : And gebigde his cneovvn, mid
micelre stemne clypigende etc. — Ib. 1. 62a : Johannes beseah
to heofonnm, ftus cweftende.

Gosp.: Mat. 9. 29: f)a sethran he hyra eagena cweftynde
= Tunc tetigit oculos eorum, dicens. — Mk. 1. 41 : his hand
aftenode ^ hina cethrinende [MS. Hatton : celhrinede~\ j ftus
cwa3$ = extendit manum suam, et tangens eum, ait illi.

Benet 31.16: mid ealre gehyrsumnessa hine sylfne iSeowde
ealdre geefenlcecende drihtnes = omni obedientia se subdat
majori, immitans dominum.

II. In Poetry.

Beow. 916 : Hwilum flitende fealwe strsete mearum mseton.

Christ 950 : Ond on seofon healfa swogaft windas. blawaiS
brecende bearhtma mseste. — Ib. 1016 : ForSon nis senig wun-
dor hu him woruldmonna seo undone gecynd cearum sorgende
hearde ondrede ^Sonne etc. (or adjectival?)

Metres of Bceth. 20. 212: swa de^ monnes saul hweole
gelicost, hwserfe^ ymbe hy selfe oft smeagende ymb ^as eoift-
lican drihtnes gesceafta dagum 3 nihtum. — Ib. 20. 214, 221 :
secende.

Met. Ps. 50. 1. 56 (Cot.) : Ac $u synfulle simle laerdes, «set
hio cerrende Criste herdon 3 hiom lif mid "Se langsuni begeton.

(2) The "Iterating" Participle.
I. In Prose.

JE/fred:—Bedtl 330. 30 : heo of eorSan deeded leorde «y
fifteo^San da?ge etc. = 252. 20 : de terris ablata transuiuit. —
Ib. 210. 26 : wool . . . feor ~] wide grimsigende micle menigeo
monna afylde ^ fornom = 192. 4 : longe lateque desceui-
ens . . . strauit. — Ib. 312. 2 : sefter heora lare . . . geftwserelice

288 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

we gelyfa'S ondettende 239. 24 : iuxta doctrinam eorum pro-

fessi credimus consonanter, et confitemur. Oros.1 240. 9 :

wepende rnsende "Sa unare.

Chron. 1083 E b : gyrne cleopedon to Gode his miltse
biddende (or final?).

Bened.1 4. 10 : Be "Seem ilican andgyte se haBlend cwift on
Ssem halgan godspelle "Sus dypiende = 8. 16 : Unde et Dorni-
nus in Evangelic ait. — Ib. 11. 8: hy -Sean forhogiende me
forsawon = 18. 21 : ipsi autem contemnentes spreverunt me
(or modal?).

jEljric: — Horn. 1. 104b: iSses Feeder stemn of heofenum
hlude swegde, -Sus cwedende. — Ib. 1. 294b : him to sprsec
ymbe Godes rice, samod mid him reordigende.

Gosp.: — Mat. 8. 31: $a deofla so-Slice hyne bsedon, *Sus
cweftende = Dsemones autem rogabant eum dicentes. — Ib. 9.
30: se h. bebead him cweftende = eomminatus est illis Jesus,
dicens. — Ib. 11. 25: Se h. cwseft andswariende = respondens
Jesus dixit. — Ib. 12. 10: hi ahsudun hyne $us cwedende =
interrogabant eum, dicentes. — Ib. 13. 31 : He rente him iSa
gyt ofter big-spel, 'Sus cwedende = . . . proposuit eis, dicens.
— ML 3. 1 1 : 'Sus cwedende clypedon = clamabant dicentes.

Wulfst. 199. 15 : be ^am awrat lohannes on ^a3re bee,
$e man hat apocalipsin, 'Sus cweftende. So 201. 8. — Ib. 246.
11: swa se witega $e la?rS ^us cwtftende: sepi aures tuas
spin is.

BeneC 30. 14 : gewrit bebyt secgende = scriptura prsecipit
dicens.

II. In Poetry.

Andr. 59 : He $a wepende weregum tearum his sigedrihten
sargan reorde, grette gumena brego geomran stefne.

Christ 387 : For^an hy, da3dhwa3te, dome geswi^Sde, -Sset
so^Sfseste seraphinnes cynn, uppe mid englum a bremende,
una^reotendum ^rymmum singa^. [Hertel : pred. after
intransitive verb.] — Ib. 992 : Wepaft wanende wergnm

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 289

stefnum, heane, hvgogeomre, hreownra gedreahte. [Hertel :
attrib., but Gollancz : " weep and moan."]

Gnih. 401 : Bonau gnornedon, maendon murnende, ftse! etc.
[May be adjectival or modal.] — Ib. 879 : hwilum wedende
swa wilde deor cirmdon on corSre.

Jul. 662 : Wserlic me ftinceft, ftset ge wceccende wift het-
tendra hildewoman wearde healdan.

Spirit of Men 82 : ForSon we sculon a hycgevde hselo
raedes gemunan in mode msele gehwylcum ftone selestan
sigora waldend ! Amen !

Harrowing of Hell 91 : ftonne hy gehyrdon, bu we hreo-
w[ige] [msendo]n murnende mseg burg usse. [May be
adjectival or modal.]

Mtt. Ps. 104. 10 : And him $a mid so$e saegde, cweftende =
Et statuit illtid Jacob in praeceptum, et Israel in testamentum
seternum, dicens. — 76. 105. 4: Gemune us, drihten, on mod-
sefan for^ hyegende folces ^Sines y us mid liselo her geneose
= Memento nostri, Domine, in beneplacito populi tui ; visita
nos in salutari tuo. — Ib. 138. 17: Blodhreowe weras ! ge
bebugaS me, 'Se iSa3t on ge^ohtum •Sencea'S cweftende = Viri
Bangui dum declinate a me; quia dicitis in cogitationibus
vestris. [Cf. 104. 10: where cweftende = dicens.] — Ib. 146.
10: Se $e mete syleiS manegum neatum, hrefnes briddum,
iSonne heo hropende him cigeaS to, cuiSes teses = Sui dat
jumentis escam ipsorum, et pullis corvorum invocantibus eum.

NOTES.

1. Present Participle in a Passive Sense. — I have found
no instance of the present participle used in a passive sense
in Old English. [Cf. Kellner, Syntax des Englisches Verbums,
p. 85 f. ; Koch, n, p. 72 ; Matzner, n, p. 56 ; Sweet, § 2312 ;
and, for the Germanic languages in general, O. Erdmann,
Grnndzuge, I, § 132 f.; Falk and Torp, § 138, 1; and Grimm,
IV, p. 68.]

290 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

2. Passive Participle in an Active Sense. — The preterite
participle of intransitive verbs has an active sense, such
as cumen, /offered, etc. : Bede1 396. 20 : in ftaBre he /or<$-
fered bebyrged beon sceolde = 228. 9 : in quo defundus
condi deberet ; ^E/f. L. S. 462. 351 : ofrSset hi becomon
to sumum senlicum felda fsegre geblowen (sic!); Bl. Horn.
87. 36 : befealden to Haelendes cneowura, he cwseS ; Mat.
7. 6 : hig ftonne ongean gewende eow toslyton = conversi
dirumpant vos. Cf. bewend in Mk. 5. 30; L. 7. 9, 10. 23,
etc. Occasionally, too, the past participle of transitive verbs
has an active sense : Greg.1 435. 1 : gif hi fserlecor syngoden
unbeftohte = 360. 7 : si in his sola prcecipitatione cecidis-
sent (or adverb ?) ; ^E/f. L. S. xxiv. 2 : wseron twegen
kyningas on crist gelyfde ; ib.: xxv. 109, xxvin. 15, etc.
(see Statistics); Mlf. Horn. i. 66. 12: Sonne fa3rlice gewitt
he of ftissere worulde, nacod and forscyldigod. But, as in
High German (see Grimm as cited below), the use of the
preterite participle in an active sense occurs usually, not
when the participle is appositive, but when it is attributive
or predicative, or has been substantivized ; under one of
which heads come most of the examples cited by Matzner,
March, Schrader, and Sohrauer. Druncen in wine druncen
and in beore druncen, cited by Matzner and by March as
active, seems to me passive in sense. [See Kellner, Syntax
des Verbums, p. 97 f. ; Koch, n, p. 72 ; Matzner, in, p. 93 ;
March, § 455 ; Schrader, § 104 ; Sohrauer, p. 31 ; Sweet,
§ 2356 ; and, for Germanics, O. Erdmann, Grundzuge I.,
,§ 133; Falk and Torp, § 138, n; Grimm, iv., p. 73.]

3. Supplementary Particles. — Only slight use is made of
supplementary particles, which serve the more clearly to indi-
cate the relationship of the participial to the main clause.
They seem to be confined to the late West Saxon prose.
Examples: swa swa: JElf. L. S. xxnr. B. 234: ongan he
sworettan swa swa eallunga gewsecced on "Sam oreiSe belocen;
swa fteah: jEtf. Hept. Numb. 15. 44 : Hig swa %eah ablende

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 291

beotlice astigon = At illi contenebrati ascenderunt ; ib.
L. 8. xxxi. 42 ; — swa-%eah-hwce$ere : ^Elf. L. S. xxm. B.
285 : ic eom synful wif, swc&eahhwce&ere utan ymbseald mid
$am halgan fulluhte ; — swilce: JEtf. Horn. I. 60b : Drusiana
$a aras swilce of slsepe awreht ; ib. JElf. L. 8. 158. 174, xxv.
513, xxx. 411, etc. ;— $a.- JSlf. L. 8. xxm. B. 587 : Zosiruus
i$a witodlice gehyrende "Sset ... he hire to cwaeft ; ib. Mk.
8. 13; — ftonne: Mat. 7. 6: hig ftonne oagean gevvende eow
tosliton = et conversi dirumpuiit ; ib. ^Elf. Horn. I. 38b ; JE(f.
L. 8. xxm. B. 115. — Matzner (m, pp. 73, 90) mentions only
swilce.

4. Pleonastic " and." — As with the absolute participle (see
Absolute Participle in Anglo-Saxon, p. 21) so with the apposi-
tive there is occasionally a pleonastic and: Btde1 450. 20;
Oros.1 12. 32, 33 ; Bl. Horn. 243. 7 ; JElf. L. 8. xxm. B. 542,
560, 588, etc., etc. The same is true of Gothic and of Old
High German (Gering, p. 401).

I close this chapter with tables showing the distribution
of the appositive participle in its several uses (adjectival,
adverbial, and co-ordinate), in the whole of Anglo-Saxon
Literature.

292

MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

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THE APPOSITJVE PARTICIPLE IX ANGLO-SAXON. 293

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THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 295

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THE APPOSIT1VE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 297

CHAPTER TIT.

ORIGIN OF THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN
ANGLO-SAXON.

Is the appositive use of the participle a native English idiom,
or is it borrowed from the Latin ?

The only direct expressions that are known to me on this
question are from Einenkel and myself. In his Mittelenglische
Syntax (Miinster, 1887), p. 273, in treating the present parti-
ciple, Einenkel says : "Das Part, in appositiver Stellung (im
Deutschen wiederzugeben durch Adjectiv-Satz) findet sich gele-
gentlich im AE., haufiger im Afranz., ist jedoch wol in keinem
Falle ein einheimisches Gewachs, sondern stammt aus dem
Lat., wo die Construction eine ganz gewonliche ist. Die ver-
bale Kraft, die das so verwendete lat. part, besitzt, zeigt sich
im AE. und Afranz." And in his chapter on English Syntax
in Paul's Grundriss2, § 129a, he thus speaks of the preterite
participle : " Zu erwahnen ist hier die schon im Altenglischen
bekannte spater zunehmende appositionelle Verwendung des-
selben, die vom Lateinischen hervorgerufen und spater vom
Altfranzosischen vielleicht auch vom Altnordischen unterstiitzt
wird." Einenkel, then, holds that the appositive use of both
the present and the past participle in Anglo-Saxon is due to
Latin influence.

Before reading EinenkePs treatment I had come to the same
general conclusion myself on noticing how sedulously Alfred
avoided the use of the appositive participle in his translations
from the Latin. And in my monograph on The Absolute
Participle in Anglo-Saxon (p. 50), in treating of the stylistic
effect of the participle in Anglo-Saxon, I incidentally recorded
this belief: "Clearly relief was needed here \_i. e.y from the

298 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

heaping up of co-ordinate finite verbs] ; and it came through
the adoption of the appositive participle from the Latin."

An indirect statement concerning the origin is this by Th.
Miiller (p. 250) : " Doch ist hinznzuf 'iigen, dass dieVerwendung
der Participien zur Satzverkiirzung im Ags. eine ziemlich
beschrankte ist, namentlich die Verwendung des absoluten
Particips. ... Im Englischen hat. die Anwendung des Part,
zur Satzverkurzung sehr an Umfang gewonnen, besonders
durch Einwirkung des Franzosischen und Lateinischen . . .
Im Ae. ist die Satzverkurzung durch das Particip. noch be-
schrankt und nicht viel ausgedehnter, als im Ags." A. Erd-
mann cautiously expresses himself as follows (p. 30) : " How-
ever common this use [i. e., the appositive] of the participle
present, as shown in 11: 1:0, undoubtedly is, still the general
run of the language seems to be opposed to the too frequent
recurrence of it. There are to be found in the Gospels, in spite
of the general closeness of the translation, numerous instances
of co-ordinate finite verbs or subordinate clauses substituted for
Latin-Greek participles present. In many of these passages
the English translation readmits the participle, conformably
to the original text." Owen (p. 61 ) seems to consider the con-
struction native to English, though somewhat influenced by the
Latin ; but, as his statement is indefinite, it need not be quoted.

The statements of both Einenkel and myself were in the
nature of the case incidental and general. May not the present
detailed study of the appositive participle in Anglo-Saxon
enable us to make definite statements with reference to at least
several of the uses of the appositive participle in Anglo-Saxon?
I believe it will ; and I turn, therefore, to the consideration
of the several distinctive uses of the appositive participle in
Anglo-Saxon.

I. THE ADJECTIVAL USE.

The appositive use of the present participle that is equiva-
lent to a dependent adjectival (relative) clause, seems to have
been largely due to Latin influence and never to have gained

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 299

a secure foothold in Anglo-Saxon, because, as my appended
tables show : — (1) This use is rare in Early West Saxon. (2)
In most of these Early West Saxon examples, the Anglo-Saxon
participle is in direct translation of a Latin appositive parti-
ciple. (3) The construction is rare, also, in the more original
prose (the Chronicle, the Laws, and Wulfstan). (4) It is very
rare, too, in the poetry ; and most of these examples occur in
poems known to be translations of Latin originals. (5) It is
common in .ZElfric, in the Gospels, and in Benet. Of the 13
examples in the Heptateuch all but 2 are translations from
the Latin ; of the 44 examples in the Gospels every participle
except 1 ; and of the 32 in Benet all except 2. Despite this,
it is possible that the appositive use of a few slightly verbal
participles like blissigende and gefeonde (see Bl. Horn. 5. 8a & b,
p. 186 above), and libbende and licgende (see Laws: Cnut u,
c. 24, Intr.a&b, p. 181 above) may be the native extension of
the attributive use of such participles in postposition, the
opposition arising from the fact that we have a series of
participles, some with modifiers. [See above pp. 149, 152,
and below on the origin of the adjectival appositive preterite
participle.]

Whether the foregoing be accepted or not, this much seems
certain : the appositive present participle with a direct object
is not native to English, a topic the treatment of which is
deferred to the close of this chapter (p. 307).

On the contrary, the adjectival use of the appositive preterite
participle is probably native; or, if first suggested by the Latin,
was soon naturalized. To me this use seems merely the exten-
sion of the attributive use of the preterite participle in post-
position (see pp. 149, 152 above) when there was a series of
participles modifying a single noun, or when the participle
had an object or a somewhat extended adverbial modifier ; as
in : dEtf. Hept. (Exod. 12. 19) : ne etc ge nan -Sing onhafenes,
ne utan cymene ne innan lande geborene; ib. 29. 23: Du
nymst . . .. anne holne hlaf mid ele gesprengedne; Beow.
1126 : Gewiton him fta wigend wica neosian freondum befeal-

300 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

len Frysland geseon. This difference as to the origin of the
appositive present and of the appositive preterite participle
is not in reality so strange as may at first appear; for, as
already stated in the Introduction, the preterite participle is
much more adjectival in nature than is the present participle;
and, as our statistics show, in Anglo-Saxon the appositive
use of the participle (whether present or past, and in what-
ever function) is in keeping with this general principle : the
construction is most frequent when the participle manifests
most of its descriptive (adjectival) and least of its assertive
(verbal) power.

Whatever the explanation, it is a fact that the adjectival
use of the preterite apposiiive participle in Anglo-Saxon is far
more common than that of the present participle, and it seems
thoroughly naturalized, if not native. For our tables show
(1) that the construction is common in Early West Saxon, in
the more original prose works, and in the poetry, as well as in
JElfric, the Gospels, and Benet; and (2) that in the transla-
tions, notably in the Heptateuch, a considerable fraction of
the appositive preterite participles used adjectivally are not
translations of Latin participles.

The same distinction between the appositive present and
the appositive preterite participle is found in the other
Germanic languages (see chapter v).

II. THE ADVERBIAL USE.

1. Modal.
(1) Manner.

The appositive use of the participle (present and past)
denoting manner, was probably native to Anglo-Saxon ; if not,
it was certainly early naturalized. We find this use very
often in Early West Saxon, often in JElfric and the Gospels,
and occasionally in the more original prose and in the poetry.
Moreover, in the translations, the Anglo-Saxon participle

THE APPOSITIVE PAKTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 301

corresponds not only to Latin participles, but also to Latin
prepositional phrases, to nouns in the ablative, to finite verbs,
to adjectives, and to adverbs ; while in not a few cases there
is no Latin corresponding to the Anglo-Saxon participle. Nor
is the participle denoting manner confined to the poems known
to be translations; on the contrary, the largest number of
examples in any single poem is found in Beowulf. Finally,
it may be said that in this use the participle has but slight
verbal power ; and hence the fact that the construction was
native to Anglo-Saxon (or, if this be not allowed, was early
naturalized), is what we should expect after what has been
said above concerning the lack of verbal power in the Anglo-
Saxon participle.

(2) Means.

The appositive use of the participle denoting means was in
all probability not native to the English, but was borrowed from
the Latin. It is found chiefly in the more direct translations
and in the works of JElfric, and in the former almost invari-
ably corresponds to a Latin participle or to a Latin gerund in
the ablative, in the majority of cases to the latter. It is prac-
tically unknown in the more original prose and in the poetry.
Since the verbal power is more prominent in the participle
denoting means than in that denoting manner, we need not
be surprised at the difference in the origin (or the naturalness)
of the two.

The modal participle in both of its uses has substantially
the same history in the other Germanic languages (chapter v).

2. Temporal.

With the exception of a few slightly verbal participles like
being, living, and sleeping, the temporal use of the appositive
participle, strange as it may seem, can hardly have been a
native idiom in Anglo-Saxon. When it occurs in the prose
translations, it is with but a few exceptions a direct transla-
11

302 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

tion of a Latin appositive participle. Only two examples
occur in the more original prose (Laws, 1 : Ine C. 35 : Se $e
•Seof slilrS, he mot a$e gecySan, ftset he hine fleondne for
3eof sloge ; and Wulfstan, 1 : 295. 14 : hi sculon fleonde on
gefeohte beon ofslagene). As to the poetry, most of the
examples occur in the poems that rest upon Latin originals.
14 examples, however, occur in Beowulf, nine in the present
and five in the preterite (lifigende: 815 and 1953 ; unlifgendum :
1389; slcepende: 1581 and 2219; wesende (usually in composi-
tion with cnikt and umbor): 46, 372, 535, 1187 ; druncen (in
beore and wine druncen): 480, 531, 1467 ; forftgewitenum :
1479, which may be adjectival ; and fylle gej(r)cegnod :
1333). But after all only five different words are involved;-
these are often used adjectivally, and the temporal use here
may be partly due to that fact.* At any rate, the temporal
use of the appositive participle can hardly be considered
organic in a work showing only five words so used. More-
over, in Anglo-Saxon, time relations are normally denoted
by a finite verb introduced by a subordinating conjunction,
as is evidenced by its habitual rendering of the Latin tempo-
ral participle (see chapter iv).

In the other Germanic languages, also, the temporal use is
restricted to participles of slightly verbal power, like being,
living, sleeping (chapter v).

3. Causal.

The use of the appositive participle to denote cause seems,
in the main, to be an imitation of the Latin. Few examples
occur in Early West Saxon ; and the majority of these as of
those in other translations correspond to Latin participles,
though a few answer to substantives in the ablative or to
adverbs. The construction is exceedingly rare in the more

*Einenkel (Mittelengl. Syntax, p. 279) derives the temporal use of the
preterite appositive participle from the adjectival (relative) use of the

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 303

original prose, there being but two examples in the Chronicle
(1087 E : geseonde, which has an object and is therefore to be
excluded from consideration ; 449 A : Hengest 3 Horsa from
Wyrtgeorne geleaftode, Bretta kyninge, gesohton Bretene (MS.
E : gela'Sode Wyrtgeorn Angelcin hider ; MS. F : com Angel-
cynn to 'Sisum lande, gelaftode from Wyrtgeorne cinge) ) and
two in Wulfstan (133. 5a&b: sculon eowre heortan eargjan
swrSe and eowra feonda msegen strangjan dearie, and ge
tofesede swifte afirhte oft litel werod earhlice forbugaft =
131. 23 : et animam uestram tabescentem faciam, et perse-
quentur uos inimici uestri, et fugietis nullo persequente).
In the poetry, but five examples occur with the present parti-
ciple; two have an object (Andreas 1, and Guftlac 1) and are
therefore not to be considered ; while three occur in poems
based on Latin originals (Genesis 2, Exodus 1). In all proba-
bility, then, the causal use of the present appositive participle
is not native to Anglo-Saxon poetry. As to the past parti-
ciple, as I have already said in a preceding chapter, many of
the examples are doubtful and may be considered adjectival
(relative). K. Kohler, for example, does not consider as causal
any one of the nine .examples that I have classed as such in
Beowulf. Most of the other causal preterite participles in
Anglo-Saxon poetry are in poems based on Latin originals ;
those in the prose have been discussed in the beginning of
this paragraph.

It seems highly probable, therefore, that the causal use of
the present participle in both prose and poetry is due to
Latin influence ; it seems probable that the causal use of the
preterite participle is largely due to Latin influence, but that
it is partly an extension of the adjectival use of the preterite
participle, which latter has been shown to be so common in
Anglo-Saxon. As is shown in chapter iv, the Latin causal
participle is in Anglo-Saxon normally translated by a sub-
ordinated finite verb.

For the other Germanic languages, see chapter v.

304 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

4. Final

The appositive participle denoting purpose is mainly from
the Latin. But three examples occur in Early West Saxon,
two corresponding to Latin participles and one to a Latin
infinitive of purpose. No example has been found in the
more original prose. The instances in the Gospels and in
Send correspond invariably to a Latin participle. The
single example in the poetry (already quoted : Dan. 355 : neri-
gende) is from a poem based on the Latin. A still further
reason for considering the final use unoriginal is this : 35 of
the 39 present participles have an object (see p. 307 below).
But, as the statistics show that the final participle in Old
English occurs, as in Latin (Gildersleeve, Latin Grammar,
§ 670, 3), chiefly after verbs of motion, it may well be that the
very frequent predicative use of the participle in Anglo-Saxon
after verbs of motion contributed somewhat to its appositive
use to denote purpose.

See, further, chapters IV and v.

5. Concessive.

The concessive use of the appositive participle is likewise to
be ascribed to Latin influence. Of the three examples found
in Early West Saxon, two are direct translations of Latin parti-
ciples ; while the third (ungeniedde in Oros. 250. 14), though
without a Latin correspondence in this particular instance,
answers to (non)coacti, which occurs elsewhere in Alfred's
Latin originals (as in Bede2 29. 12: co-adi=8. 5: genedde).
No instance of the concessive participle has been found in the
more original prose. Each example in the Gospels is in trans-
lation of a Latin participle. Of the eight examples in the
poems, that in Beowulf (2350 : nearo neftende) is considered
modal by K. Kohler ; the other seven occur in poems known to
be from Latin originals (one each in Elene, Genesis^ Guftlac,

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 305

Juliana, Metres of Boethius; and two in the Phoenix). More-
over, the Boethius example translates a Latin participle.
Compare chapters iv and v.

6. Conditional.

The appositive participle denoting a condition is probably
due to Latin influence. Four examples occur in Early West
Saxon, of which one corresponds to a Latin appositive parti-
ciple (Bede 278. 18a), one to a Latin absolute parti ci pie (Boeth.
91. 8), while two have no correspondents in Latin (Boeth. 30.
25, 26). Of the two examples in Benedict, one answers to a
Latin participle, and one is without a correspondent. The
two examples in the Gospels are translations of Latin parti-
ciples, as are also the four in Benet. Only one example occurs in
the remainder of Anglo-Saxon prose. Of the sixteen examples
in the poetry, two are in Beowulf (1368 : geswenced; 1370:
geflymed), one in Eadgar (1 1 A : geteled rimes) three in Genesis
(geteled rime(s) in 1263, 1336, and in 2344), two in Exodus
232 : geteled tireadigra, 372 : geteled rime), three in Andreas
(309 (?) : ma-Smum bedceled, 883 : twelfe getealde, 1035 : ge-
teled rime), two in Elene (2 : geteled rimes, 634 : geteled rime),
two in the Riddles (24. 15: unbunden, 24. 16: searos(eled),
and one in the Metrical Psalms (67. 17 : geteled rime).* In
ten of these examples, however, the same word (geteled nine
times, getealde once) is used ; and, besides, the participle is
not unmistakably conditional. From its frequent occurrence
in Anglo-Saxon and its occasional employment in Old Saxon
(Heliand 1251 : twelivi gitalda), this seems to have been a
favorite locution ; but its use appears to have been phraseo-

*The translation of this phrase by Grimm (computati numero, note to
Elene 1035 in his Andreas u. Elene), by Grein (gezalt der Zal nach, in his
Glossary sub v. rim), and by Kent (the number told, note to Elene 2) is, like
the original, ambiguous, except that Kent does say that the participial
phrase is used adverbially. Pratje (g 158) considers the O. S. gitalda to be
attributive.

306 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

logical rather than syntactical. The Beowulf examples, also,
are doubtful. We know, too, that in Anglo-Saxon a condi-
tion is regularly denoted by a subordinated finite verb. I
believe, therefore, that the use of the appositive participle to
denote a condition is not a native English idiom, but was
perhaps borrowed from the Latin.
See, too, chapters iv and v.

III. THE CO-ORDINATE USE.

The co-ordinate participle, in both its " circumstantial " and
its "iterating" uses, is a direct importation from the Latin.
No clear example of the co-ordinate participle occurs in Greg-
ory, and only sixteen examples in the remainder of Alfred's
works, each time in direct translation of a Latin participle.
Three examples occur in the Chronicle and five in Wulfstan,
all present participles with an object, and all due to Latin
influence (see p. 307 below). No example is found in the Laws.
With about a dozen exceptions all the examples in Bene-
dict, in the Gospels, and in Benet are translations of Latin
participles. In the Prose Psalms, however, only one of the
sixteen co-ordinate participles answers to a Latin participle ;
but thirteen are present participles with an object, and, there-
fore, cannot be native English (p. 307).

In the poems, only nineteen examples occur : one in Beowulf
(916 : flitende), one in Andreas (59 : wepende), four in Christ
(387 : bremende, 992 : wanende, 950 : brecende, 1016 : sorgende),
two in Guthlac (401 : murnende, 879 : wedende), one in Juliana
(662 : ivceccende), one in Spirit of Men (82 : hycgende), one in
the Harrowing of Hell (91 : murnende), three in the Metres of
Boethius (20. 212 : smeagende, 20. 214, 221 : secende], and five
in the Metrical Psalms (50. 56 : cerrende, 104. 10: cweftende
= dicens, 105. 4 : hycgende, 138. 17 : cwe%ende = dicitis, 146.
10 : hropende = invocantibus). With the exception of Beow.
916 (which may not be co-ordinate) and of Spirit of Men 82
(of which I do not know the source), all the examples are from

THE APPOSIT1VE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 307

poems known to be based on Latin originals. Two of the
examples are in direct translation of Latin participles (Metr.
Ps. 104. 10 : cweftende = dicens ; 146. 10 : hropende = invo-
cantibus), to which may confidently be added a third (Metr.
Ps. 138. 17 : cweftende), though here answering to a finite verb,
dicitis. Finally, the majority of the remaining examples (like
brecende, murnende, sorgende, wceccende, wanende, wedende, and
wepende) really waver between the co-ordinate use on the one
hand and the adjectival and the modal on the other ; indeed,
brecende, murnende, sorgende, and wanende are expressly de-
clared to be attributive by Hertel and by Furkert, and I have
put them here despite their extreme doubtfulness merely to
avoid the appearance of bending statistics to conformity with
a theory. The few clear cases that remain of the co-ordinate
use (like cerrende, hycgende, secende, and smeagende) may, I
think, safely be attributed to Latin influence. The Latin
co-ordinate participle is in Anglo-Saxon usually rendered by
a co-ordinate finite verb (chapter iv).

The co-ordinate participle is likewise uncommon in the
other Germanic languages (chapter v).

THE GOVERNING POWER OF THE PARTICIPLE.
1. The Present Participle.

I conclude with a remark that applies equally to each of
the three uses of the appositive participle : the present apposi-
tive participle with a direct object, no matter whether its use
is adjectival, adverbial, or co-ordinate, is always in imitation
of the Latin. For the Anglo-Saxon present participle, when
used appositively, seems originally not to have had the power
of governing a direct object in construction, — a fact not
noticed hitherto so far as I am aware. This statement is
substantiated, I believe, by the following considerations : —

1. Very few examples of a present participle having an
object occur in Early West Saxon. Only eighteen examples

308 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

have been found in the works of ^Elfred, distributed as fol-
lows : Bede 14, Gregory 2, Orosius 2.

2. With two exceptions each of these eighteen examples
in Early West Saxon is a translation of a Latin appositive
participle with a direct object. In one of the exceptional cases
(Greg.1 171. 13: Icerende (MS. C. : beo% Icerende) = 126a:
praedicando) the Anglo-Saxon participle translates a Latin
gerund in the ablative; in the other (Oros.1 52. 27) the accu-
sative seems to belong to the finite verb as well as to the
participle (see Statistics).

3. In hundreds of instances the Early West Saxon trans-
lators (Alfred and his helpers) clearly avoided turning the
Latin participle with an object by an Anglo-Saxon participle
with an object (see chapter iv).

4. An object is exceedingly rare in the more original prose
works, there being but four examples in the Chronicles, one
in the Laws, and six in Wulfstan ; in all eleven instances.

5. In every one of these eleven examples the participle
can be traced directly or indirectly to a Latin source. In
the Chronicle, biddende {1083 E), cweftende, which occurs
twice (656 E, 675 E, both already quoted above), and geseonde
(1087 E), may be due to the Latin petens, dicens, and videns,
which latter occur so often in the Vulgate New Testament,
in Gregory's Cura Pastoralis, in Bede's Historia Ecclesiastica,
and in other books that we may assume to have been in the
hands of the compiler of MS. E., especially as this MS. is itself
occasionally interlarded with Latin. Or, since it was written
about 1121 (Plummer, n, § 26), the editor of E. could have
borrowed these participles from the Anglo-Saxon Gospels or
from the works of ^Elfric, in both of which they abound. The
single example in the Laws (Wihtr. C. 18 : Preost hine clsensie
sylfaBS soft, in his halgum hraegle setforan wiofode, 3us cwe-
ftende: aUeritatem dico in Christo, non mentior") may con-
fidently be ascribed to Latin influence, not only that it is
cweftende, but that the participle is immediately followed by
a quotation in Latin. As to Wulfstan, four of the examples

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 309

are eweSmde (105. 30, 199. 15, 201. 8, 246. 11), which here
as elsewhere is to be ascribed to Latin influence, dicens
(dieentes) occurs five times in Wulfstan, though not in the
above examples ; twice it is translated by a co-ordinated
finite (60. 14, 87. 15) and once by a subordinated finite verb
(87. 18), and twice it is not translated at all (31. 32, 77.
3). Moreover, in two instances (201. 8, 246. 11) cweftende
immediately precedes a quotation in Latin. The other two
examples in Wulfstan (244. 7b : gemende, 278. 9 : ftancjende:
see Statistics) sound like translations from the ritual. Be
this as it may, the participle may unhesitatingly be ascribed
to Latin influence; for in Wulfstan there are interlarded with
the Anglo-Saxon fourteen Latin present participles with an
object.

6. Very few objects are found with the present participle
in the poetry, only twenty-three in all, distributed as follows :
Beowulf four (1227 : dream healdende; 2106 : fela fricgende
(but K. Kohler considers fela an adverb); 2350: nearo neftende;
1829 : "Sec hettende, which may be substantival, as K. Kohler
construes it), Cynewulf's Christ one (1271 : wrcec winnende,
Grein1 and Gollancz1&2: wrcecwinnende), Andreas three (570:
dom agende, 491 : mere hrerendum, mundum freorig, 300 :
wine ftearfende), Elene two (1096 : god hergendra, 1220 :
god hergendum), Doomsday one (112: deaiS beacnigende tacen
= signa minantia mortem), Judith one (272 : mid toiSon
torn ftoligende : cf. Ps. 111. 9: torn to'Sum $olian =
dentibus fremere), Daniel two (355 : feorh nerigende, 396 :
lean sellende)} Guthlac one (1029: torn ftoliende: cf. Judith
272), Juliana one (6 : god hergendra: cf. Elene 1096, 1220),
Spirit of Men one (82 : hycgende hsdlo rsedes), Wonders of
Creation two (14: fricgende fira cynnes, 15: secgende searo-
runa gespon), Metrical Psalms four (104. 10 : cweftende =
dicens; 138. 17: cweftende = dicitis ; 105. 17: hseiSenstyrces
hig etendes = in similitudinem comedentis foenum ; 105. 4 :
gemune us, drihten, on modsefan forS hycgende folces ftines
= memento nostri, Domine, in beneplacito populi tui). Of

310 MORGAN CALL AWAY, JR.

these twenty-three participles, three (Doomsday 112, Metr. Ps.
104. 10 and 105. 17) are direct translations of corresponding
Latin participles with an object ; and to this class we may add
a fourth (Metr. Ps. 138. 17), for the cweftende here, though
corresponding to dicitis, must be due to dicens, which occurs
not infrequently in the Latin Psalms. But what about the
remaining nineteen examples ? In the first place it is to be
noticed that, except in four instances (Spirit of Men 82, Won-
ders of Creation 14 and 15, and Metr. Ps. 105. 4), the object
immediately precedes its participle ; that, though they are not
so printed in Grein-Wiilker, possibly we have accusative com-
pounds (except in Beow. 1 829), which compounds are in the
main descriptive epithets, as are the hyphenated accusative
compounds. And an object in an accusative compound seems
to me to stand on an entirely different footing from an object in
construction (cf. Strong, Logeman, Wheeler, p. 334, and Storch,
p. 25). The accusative compound is often made because the
Anglo-Saxon had no single word for the idea to be expressed,
as when the translator of the Psalms (81. 2) turns the Latin
peccator by syn-wyrcende, etc. Oftener, perhaps, the compound
is made for the sake of its picturesqueness; hence it is more
frequent in poetry than in prose. That the participles which
govern an object in composition do stand by themselves and
that their governing an object in composition does not neces-
sarily imply an antecedent power of governing an object in
construction is attested, I think, by the fact that only one
or two of the participles with an object in composition are
found, also, with an object in construction. This principle
by itself might account for most of the participles under
consideration. But we see, further, that of these parti-
ciples eleven occur in works known to be translations from
the Greek or the Latin (Andreas 3, Christ 1, Elene 2,
Judith 1, Daniel 2, Guthlac 1, Juliana 1), and the participles
here may be due in part to the influence of the participles in
the originals, even if at times, as in the two examples from
the Elene, the Anglo-Saxon participles correspond, not to

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 311

Latin participles, but to Latin finite verbs. It will be ob-
served, also, that in these eleven examples there are only eight
different participles, the participle of hergian occurring three
times and that of ftolian twice. As to the four participles
with objects following in construction, I think that they
must be ascribed to foreign influence, though I cannot defi-
nitely trace that influence in three of the examples, as I do
not know the sources of the Spirit, of Men and the Wonders
of Creation. Hycgende of Metr. Ps. 105. 4 may safely be
ascribed to the influence of the Latin participles of the
Psalter, though none is found in the particular verse corre-
sponding to this line.

7. An object is likewise rare in the other Germanic
languages, especially in High German and in Old Saxon,
as will be shown in chapter v.

8. The only fact known to me that seems to militate
against the assumption that the present participle in Anglo-
Saxon had not, originally, the power of governing an
object, is this : in the Prose Psalms there are thirteen
examples of the present participle with an object, no one
of which is known to have a Latin appositive participle
as its original correspondent. All of these participles occur
in the Introductions to the Psalms. And, in his very able
discussion of the Paris Psalter (p. 64 ff.), Bruce has shown
that these Introductions are paraphrases of Latin originals,
principally of the argumenta in the commentary In Psalmorum
Librum Exegesis. In the originals as given by Bruce I
find but two correspondences to our participles : in Psalms
34 siofigende corresponds to a substantive in the ablative
with a genitive modifier (Dauid sang iSysne feower and
$rittigo$an sealm, siofigende to Drihtne his yrm'Sa = occa-
sione cerumnarum suarum David hunc psalmum in tempore
Jeremia3 componit, etc.), and in Ps. 38 to an ablative absolute
(Dauid sang $ysne eahta and ftrittigoftan sealm, seofigende
to Drihtne, mid hu manegum unrotnessum he wa3s ofSrycced
under Sawle = Angentibus sub Saule mceroribus, hunc

312 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

imum cecinit etc.) ; while in the remaining eleven
examples (37 : andettende, 28 : bebeodende, 33 : gehatende, 39 :
gylpende (w. gen.), 32 : herigende, 47 : mycliende, 37 : seofi-
gende : 43 : seofigende, 32 : ftanciende, 45 : ftanciende, 31 :
wundriende (w. gen.)) there is no Latin correspondence. It
will be observed, however, that, since one word is repeated
four times (seofigende) and another twice (ftanciende), only
seven words are involved ; that, although there are no
participles in the Latin corresponding to the Anglo-Saxon
participles, participles are abundant in the Latin originals;
that, as Bruce shows, the Prose Psalms are the work of
an ecclesiastic ; and that the Anglo-Saxon participles are
those the Latin correspondents of which must have been
often before the eyes and upon the lips of an ecclesiastic
(such as conjitens, postulans, benedicens, etc.). While, then,
in the Prose Psalms the number of present participles with
an object for which no immediate Latin source has been
found, does seem to militate against the statement that
originally in Anglo-Saxon the present participle had not
the power of governing an object, in reality it does not :
the author was an ecclesiastic and naturally molded his
English translation on the pattern of what was at once
his official language and his literary source.

9. In Late West Saxon, to be sure, especially in 2Elfric
and in the Gospels, there are numerous present participles
with direct objects ; but this fact does not invalidate the con-
tention that in Anglo-Saxon the present participle had not
the governing power originally. It will be observed, further,
that in the Late West Saxon translations the participles with
objects usually correspond to Latin participles with objects
(25 times out of 36 in the Heptateuch, 117 times out of 122
in the Gospels, and 62 times out of 63 in Benef) • and that in
scores of instances the Latin participle is translated into
Anglo-Saxon by a finite verb. The frequency of the parti-
ciple with an object in .ZElfric's Homilies and in his Lives of
Saints is due, of course, to the fact that, as he tells us, these

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 313

works are translations from the Latin. The rareness of the
present participle with an object in the poems and in the more
original prose, especially in the late Wulfstan, would seem to
indicate that, despite its great frequency in ^Elfric and in the
Gospels, this construction was never thoroughly naturalized
in Anglo-Saxon.

10. Whenever it does govern an object, the present parti-
ciple, as our examples show, has the same regimen as the
verb from which it is derived. We find as object occasionally
the genitive (Gregory1 99. 4: wilnigende; Metr. Ps. 105. 4:
hycgende; etc., etc.) and the dative (Bede1 426. 30: biosmri-
endes; JElf. Horn. n. 128b : fteowigende; etc., etc.), but
usually the accusative (see Statistics). — In the preceding dis-
cussion as to the origin of the present participle with a
direct object I have included not only the accusative, but all
the cases that from the modern English standpoint appear to
be direct objects and, in the Early West Saxon texts and in
the poems, all participles with objects, whether direct or not.

2. The Preterite Participle.

1. With reference to the preterite participle, the word
object, as stated in the prefatory note to the Statistics, is used
to include not only the object in the ordinary sense, but also
any noun modifier of the participle. We find with the pre-
terite participle the object in the genitive (&lf. L. S. xxm.
B. 442: selces fylstes bedceled; Beow. 845: nrSa ofercumen;
Gen. 2344 : geteled rimes ; etc., etc.), the dative (^Elf. Horn.
I. 544b3: deorum geferlcehte; ib. II. 31 4b: beboda mannum
gesette; Bede1 172. 26 : Disse faBmnan Gode gehalgodre weorc ;
etc., etc.), and the instrumental (Bede1 214. 11 : onlysed %y
lichoman ; ib. 344. 28 : "Sy betstan leofte geglenged; etc.,
etc.). This use of the preterite participle occurs both in
the prose and in the poetry, but much more frequently in the
latter. The construction seems to be thoroughly natural in
Anglo-Saxon.

314 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

2. In the whole of Anglo-Saxon literature, however, I
have found but one instance of an appositive preterite parti-
ciple governing an accusative of the direct object, namely,
Luke 9. 55 (MSS. B. & C.) : hine bewend, he hig Sreade =
conversus increpavit illos. The remaining three MSS. and the
corresponding Glosses here use a finite verb (see p. 225) ; and
Professor Bright in his footnote to the above passage con-
siders bewend a slavish translation of the Latin participle.
It is scarcely possible to consider as original a construction
of which but one example is found in our texts. I believe,
therefore, that in Anglo-Saxon the past participle, when used
appositively, did not have the power of governing a direct
object.

I append tables showing the Latin correspondences of the
Anglo-Saxon appositive participles, in their several uses, in
the more definite Anglo-Saxon translations from the Latin.

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON.

315

BEDE.1
A.-S. PTC. WITHOUT OBJECT.

LATIN EQUIVALENT.

A.-S. PTC.
WITH OBJECT.

LATIN EQUIVALENT.

" t/5

USE.

a
£

No Lat.

a
1

Gerundiv

No Lat.

" ,preg

•J' 1 Pret

( Pres

Mod. -^ prek [€_

f Pres

Temp, -j^ pret

f Pres

Caus. | prej;

. ( Pres

1 Pret. ;

f Pres

Lone. ^ prek ___

Cond-{pret'"

0
1

0
0

To ord J Pres"

Co-ord.|pret

BOETHIUS.1

Fin.{

316

MOKGAN CALLAWAY, JE.

GREGORY.1

A.-S. PTC. WITHOUT OBJECT.

LATIN EQUIVALENT.

A.-S. PTC.

WITH OBJECT.

LATIN EQUIVALENT.

USE.

in Abl.

1
a

«j

in A.-S.

in Ace.

«<

XJ
CO

. /Pres

1 Pret

,, , JPres
Mod-|pret

48
3

7
1

1
1

JPres...

J.Gmp. -j j>j-g£

r f Pres. ...
cans. < pret

0
6

-r,. JPres
Fin-{pret

1
0

0
0

fPres. ...

Cone. 1 pret

f Pres

Cond. | pref_ ___

r> /i JPres..

•jPret..

OROSIUS.1

Cond.

fPres....
-|pret

1 1 is in the dative.

2 These are in the genitive.

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON.

317

METRICAL PSALMS.

A.-S. PTC. WITHOUT OBJECT. A--s- PTC-

WITH OBJECT.

LATIN EQUIVALENT. LATIN KQUIVALENT.

USE.

•S

«'

AHi (Pres
AdJ'iPret

7
6

1
9

( Pres

Mod. -^ pre(;

( Pres...

xeinp. i pj.g£

("Pres.

Caus. j pret_

. i Pres

I Pret

P f Pres. ...

^ouc. < Pret

j Pres. ...

(Jond. | pret ...

i ( Pres..

°-°r 'jPret..

BENEDICT.1

Ad, fPres

AdJ-tPret

f Pres

Mod. -j prej

j Pres...

Temp, -j prej

j Pres

Liius. < pret

TT,. (Pres
Fm-tPret

0
0

2
0

P fPres....

Lone. < pre^

P , f Pres. ...

)nii, •< pj.g^.

P f Pres..

•jPret..

318

MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

H(EPTATEUCH.]

A.-8. PTC. WITHOUT OBJECT.

LATIN EQUIVALENT.

A.-S. PTC.
WITH OBJECT.

LATIN EQUIVALFNT.

USE.

Tot. in A.

£'

^H*

PH
PH

a
1

No Lat.

Tot. in A.-

S-H

No Lat.

. -Fiea

3' j Pret

_^ , j Pres

loa. ^ pret;

rp ("Pres...

clllp. •< pj«g£^

f Pres. ...

Laus. | pre£

Fin-{?rest::::::

Cone. ] Pres> -

1
0
0
0

0
0
0

r Pres. ...

Lona. | pret_ __

r H / Pres..

oor -jPret..

THE GOSPELS

THE APPOSITIVE PAETICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON.

319

METRES OF feOETHIUS.

A.-S. PTC. WITHOUT OBJECT. A.-S. PTC.

WITH OBJECT.

LATIN EQUIVALENT. LATIH EQUiVALENT.

USE.

O
a

P-i

Af1i /Pres

Adj- 1 Pret

1 .

__ , fPres

LOU. -^ pre£

( Pres...

lemp. | pret; _

f Pres

1/aus. -^ pre£

f Pres

1 Pret

**»<•{&::

1
0

0
0

if Pres

\x>nd. -j pre|. ^

f Pres..

°-<* -jPret..

BE NET.1

vdi fPres

iaj'tPret

tfnrl !Pres

lod'tPret

Po fPres...
Cernp. | pre(.

-,.„. fPres....

10
8
3

4
0
4

4
4

^aus- 1 Pret

M£3::::::

0
0

1
0

n ( Pres. ...

uoiic. I prejii ___

nonrl J Pres....

ma. •< prej.

^ f Pres..

°-°r 'tPret.

320

MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

PROSE PSALMS.1

A.-S. PTC. WITH OBJECT. A-'S- PTC- WITH-

OUT OBJECT.

LATIN EQUIVALENT. LATIN EQUIVALENT.

USE.

Tot. in A.--.

§,

S
•4

a
9

O
a

Prep. Phr.

3
a

3
P-i

b. in Abl.

-i

. ,pres

J* 1 pret

Mnrt fPres...
Mod'ipret...

3
0

0
0

(Pres.

lemp. -j pre£

P J Pres. .

Oaus. I prek __

-p- f Pres

•^ • | Pr0t

f Pres. ...

Lone. | prek ^

P , ("Pres....

Cona. ^p5fgt>>M

r t\ / Pres..

iPret..

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 321

CHAPTER IV.

THE ANGLO-SAXON RENDERING OF THE
LATIN APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE.

When not turned by an appositive participle, the Latin
appositive participle is translated into Anglo-Saxon as
follows : —

I. NORMALLY BY A CO-ORDINATED FINITE VERB.

Most frequently the Latin appositive participle is rendered
in Anglo-Saxon by a co-ordinated finite verb, though the
texts vary widely, as is evident from the table in the
footnote.1 That the co-ordinated finite verb is the most
frequent rendering of the Latin appositive participle, while
the subordinated finite verb is the commonest translation
of the Latin absolute participle (see The Abs. Ptc. in A.-S.,
p. 36), is doubtless due to the fact that not a few of the
Latin appositive participles have what we have denominated
the " co-ordinate " use ; and this rendition is, therefore, more
appropriate for the appositive than for the absolute participle.

lrThe proportion of co-ordinated to subordinated finite verbs is as
follows : —

Bede1 = 2 . 14 : 1.

Benedict1 = 1 : 1 . 97.

Benef- =1:2.

Genesis1 =5.36:1.

Gregory1 = 1 : 1 . 56.

Matthew1 =3:1.
Poetical Psalms = 1 : 1 . 88.

Prose Psalms = 1 : 1 . 27.

The ratio of the total co-ordinated to the total subordinated finite verbs
in these works is 1 . 35 : 1.

322 MOBGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

But it must be allowed that no principle has been consistently
followed throughout by the Anglo-Saxon translators ; and
that not infrequently this rendition ignores shades of mean-
ing in the original, and at times does positive violence to
the sense. Undoubtedly, however, the modification of the
sense of the original is often deliberately made by the
translator because of his different conception of the relative
importance of the ideas denoted by the Latin verb and the
Latin participle.

The co-ordinated verb is usually in the indicative, though
occasionally in the optative or the imperative. As a rule,
the co-ordinated verb occurs in the same sentence as the
verb with which it is co-ordinated, but occasionally it stands
in an independent sentence. The clauses are generally united
by a conjunction, but sometimes there is no connective.

A few examples will suffice to illustrate the range of the
construction : —

(1) Co-ordinated Indicative: (a) With a verb in the same
sentence : Bede2 21. 9 : relinquens reuersus est = 40. 1 :
wees forlcetende y hwearf ; Greg.2 62. 7 : Hinc per Isaiam
Dominus admonet, dicens =91. 19 : forSam myndgode
Dryhten fturh Essaiam $one witgan •j cuseft ; Mat. 12. 25 :
sciens dixit = wiste y cwaeft ; Gen.2 22. 3 : Abraham consur-
gens stravit etc. = A. aras . . .and ferde. — Other examples :
Bede2 98. 34 (122. 9), 100. 13 (124. 21); Greg.2 24. 2 (45.
13), 76. 18, 21 (111. 6, 9); Gen. 42. 7, 9; Mat. 24. 2, 25.
18; etc., etc. — (6) With a verb in another sentence: Greg2
70. 17 : Coram testamenti area Dominum consulit, exemplum
. . . rectoribus prcebens = 103. 6 ; frsegn "Sses Dryhten beforan
i$a3re earce. . . He astealde on 'SaBm bisene ; Gen. 42. 3 ; etc.

(2) Co-ordinated Optative : Greg2 394. 23 : ne in seme-
tipsis torpentes opere alios excitent voce = 461. 15: ftylses
he oftre awecce mid his wordum, ^ himself aslawige godra
weorca; Bede2 112. 12, 13: adueniens . . . peruolauerit,
qui . . . ingrediens . . . exierit = 136. 1, 2 : Oume an spear wa,

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 323

. . . fleo y cume . . . ut gewite. — Other examples : Bened2 56.
2 (29. 6), 56. 8 (29. 12); 58. 16 (31. 11); Mat.2 22. 24; etc.
(3) Co-ordinated Imperative: Greg.2 150. 24, 25: Et vos
domini eadem facite illis, remittentes ininas, scientes quod et
illorum et vester Dominus est in coelis = 203. 1 : Ge hlafordas,
doiS ge eowrum monnum ftset ilce be hira andefne & gemetgiaft
•Sone ftrean ; geftencaft "Sset segfter ge hira hlaford ge eower
is on hefenum. — Other examples: Mat2 5. 24, 9. 13, 10. 7;
Ps. Th2 17. 48 ; etc.

II. FREQUENTLY BY A SUBORDINATED FINITE VERB.

Almost as frequently as by a co-ordinated finite verb the
Latin appositive participle is translated by an Anglo-Saxon
subordinated finite verb, introduced by a conjunction that
indicates the relation sustained by the Latin participle to
the principal verb. The dependent verb in Anglo-Saxon is
more commonly in the indicative, though occasionally in
the optative ; while at times the form of the verb is ambigu-
ous. The use of the indicative or the optative rests upon
the well-known distinction between these two moods, but
the principle is not infrequently ignored. I cite examples
of each mood. In the main, the examples are arranged
according to the use of the appositive participle in Latin : —

1. The Latin Temporal Clause is translated by a subordi-
nated finite verb introduced by a temporal conjunction or
conjunctional phrase: usually by $a, "Sa fta, ftonne; less
frequently by cefter %am %e, cefter ^>on ftcet, mid fty, o$ ftcet,
siftftan, sona swa, swa, swa swifte sway %a hwile %e. Examples :
(1) Indicative: — %a: Mat2 27. 24 : Uidens autem pilatus . . .
lavit manus = Da geseah p. ... $a ... he ftwoh his handa ;
ib. 8. 8; Bede2 91. 5 (112. 2), 91. 30 (112. 26); Greg2 70.
23 (103. 11); Gen2 28. 18, 30. 9; etc.; $a «a : Bede2 87.
4 (106. 24); Greg2 136. 5 (181. 17); Gen2 3. 8; etc.;
Konne: Greg2 8a (27. 17), 32. 15 (57. 2); Ps. Th.2 21. 11 ;
Bened2 152. 12 (85. 9); etc.; cefter Kcem %e: Greg2 216. 23

324 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

(287. 9); afar $on Kcet: Bede2 11. 25 (28. 7); mid %.-
Bede2 84. 5 (102. 30); oKKcet: Greg.2 102. 23 (143.
17); siKKan: Greg.2 78. 16 (113. 11), Bened2 132. 18 (70.
9); sona swa: Greg2 32. 17 (57. 6); swa swifte swa:
Greg2 68. 17 (99. 21); «a hwile Ke: Greg2 344. 16 (421.
28. — (2) Optative: ftonne: Bened2 32. 11: Injuriam non
facere, sed factam patienter sufferre = 17. 11 : ac ftonne him
mon yfel do, he sceal geftyldelice arsefnian ; Bede2 83. 6
(100. 33); Greg2 322. 10 (403. 14); Mat2 6. 7 ; rt$ Kcutt
Bened2 202. 14 (131. 6); siWan: Bened2 138. 14 (73. 9);
sona swa: Bened2 138. 14 (73. 9); swa: Bened2 158. 11
(91. 13).

Note. — The Latin Co-ordinate Participle, though normally
translated into Anglo-Saxon by a co-ordinated finite verb (see
above, p. 321), is sometimes translated by a subordinated finite
verb, which clause is temporal. Thus in Greg2 156. 3 (in-
crepat, dicens = 207. 14 talde, $a he cuceS) we have as the
translation of dicens the dependent %a he cwceft instead of the
more common independent and he cwceft (Greg2 98. 16 (137.
16), etc.). I have noted about thirty examples of dicens = fta
he cwceft in Greg2 and about forty examples of dicens = and
he cwceft. Besides, the Anglo-Saxon dependent temporal
clause is substituted for other co-ordinate participles of the
Latin.

2. The Latin Relative Clause is translated by a subordi-
nated finite verb introduced by a relative pronoun. Ex-
amples:— (1) Indicative: Bened2 72. 14: Lectiones ad ipsum
deum pertinentes dicantur = 39. 9 : raediuga syn gesungene, fte
to Sam freolsdsege belimpaft ; ib. 2. 6, 8 (1. 7, 9) ; Greg2 18a2
(37. 22); Bede2 92. 8 (114. 6), 94. 28 (118. 12); Gen. 23.
17; Mat. 22. 11, 25. 29, 25. 34; Ps. Th2 3. 6; etc., etc.—
(2) Optative : Bened2 44. 8 : Scurrilitates vero vel verba otiosa
et risum moventia, sterna clausura in omnibus locis damnamus
= 22. 5 : gegafsprace and idele word and Sa word, %e leahter
astyrien ... we ... forbeodaS ; Greg2 126. 26 (173. 8) ; Bede*
57. 17 (80. 25).

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 325

3. The Latin Causal Clause is rendered by a subordinated
finite verb introduced by forftcem, forftcem %e, /orSon, /orSon
%e, mid fty. Examples : — (1) Indicative : forftcem : Greg.2 50.
14: ad exemplum aliis congtitutu8=7T. 13: Forftcem he bi§
gesett to bisene oSrum monnum : Ps. Th. 18. 7 ; — forfton: Greg.2
52. 9 (79. 10) ; Bede2 6. 9 (2. 19) ; forfcemKe: Greg2 210. 1
(276. 15 Cot.), ib. 232. 12 (305. 2); Bede2 116. 3 (142. 1);
for %on $e: Bede2 309. 10 (432. 30); mid Ky : Bede2 12. 13
(28. 18) (or Temporal ?).

4. The Latin Conditional Clause is translated by a subordi-
nate finite verb introduced by gif. Examples : — (1) Indicative :
Greg2 44. 6 : Pupilla namqne oculi . . . albuginem tolerrtns nil
videt = 69. 18: gif hine $one *3a3t fleah mid ealle ofergceft,
iSonue ne masg he noht gesion ; ib. 208. 25 (277. 8) ; Bede2
98. 8 (120. 22); Bened2 86. 17 (46. 16), 96. 20 (52. 4) ; Mat2
21. 22.— (2) Optative: Greg2 22. 23: Cui nolenti in faciem
mulier spuit = 45. 2: Gif hire ftonne se wtf&sace, "Sonne is
cynn ftset him spiwe 'Sset wif on "Sset nebb.

5. The Latin Concessive Clause is turned by a subordinate
finite verb introduced by ¥>eah, %eah %e. Examples : — (1)
Indicative: %eah: Greg2 192. 3 : non levabo caput, saturatus
afflictione et miseria = 253. 8 : . . . fteah ic eom gefylled raid
broce & mid iernrSum. — (2) Optative: fteah: Greg2 34. 19:
co-adus= 59. 10: ¥>eah hiene mon niede; ib. 42. 18 (67. 23);
Ps. Th.2 3. 5; Keah %e: Greg2 68. 7 (99. 9), Bede2 57. 29
(82. 4), 272. 28 (368. 16).

6. The Latin Final Clause is translated by a subordinated
finite verb introduced by to ¥>cem %a?t, to ¥>y $wt, ¥>cet, ¥>e Ices,
%e Ices ¥>e, ¥>ylces. Examples : — (1) Indicative : I find no ex-
ample.— (2) Optative: ftcet: Mat2 14. 15: dimitte turbas, ut
euntes in castella emant sibi escas = forlset -Sas msenegeo %cet
hifaron . . o ^im mete bicgean ; Greg2 122. 19 (167. 17) ;
to Kcem Kcet: Greg2 246. 20 (319. 20); to % *orf.- Bened2
204. 15 (132. 15); «« Ices: Mat2 13. 29; «« Ices %e: Gen2 32.
11 ; Kylces: Greg.2 90. 2, 4 (127. 14, 15), 180. 13 (239. 2).

326 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

7. The Latin Modal Clause is turned by a subordinate
finite verb introduced by swa swa, swelce. Examples : —
(1) Indicative : swa swa: Greg.2 348. 14 : ut qui voluptatibus
deledati discessimus, fletibu? arnaricati redeamus = 425. 14 :
ftsette us biterige sio breowsung, swa swa us ser swetedon fta
synna; Mat.2 9. 36; etc., etc. — (2) Optative: swelce: Greg.2
156. 6: quasi compatiem = 207. 17: suelce he efnsuifte him
bcere; ib. 80. 22 (117. 1), 94. 30 (135. 1); Beneds ISO. 6
(113. 25).

8. The Latin Consecutive Clause is translated by a sub-
ordinated finite verb introduced by swa %cet, ftcet, beetle.
Examples: — ( 1 ) Indicative : swa $cet: Mat.2 13. 2: congre-
gatse sunt ad eum turbse multse, ita ut in naviculam adscendens
sederet = mycle msenigeo wseron gesamuade to him swa ftcet
he eode on scyp 3 Seer sget ; Bede2 278. 11, 12 (378. 20, 21);
Kcet: Bede2 116. 4 (142. 2); Bened2 188. 15 (124. 5); Kcette:
Greg2 182. 7 (241. 3).— (2) Optative: Kcet: Greg.2 34. 21:
caveat ne acceptam pecuniam in sudarium ligans de ejus
occultatione judicetur = 59. 13 : healde hine %cel he ne
cnytte 3a3t underfougne feoh on 3a3m swatline ; ib. 38. 14
(63. 15), 398. 20 (463. 13); Kcette: Greg2 164. 23 (219. 7);
swa Kcet: Bened2 12. 4 (5. 24).

III. BY A PREPOSITIONAL PHRASE.

Not infrequently the Latin appositive participle is translated
into Anglo-Saxon by a prepositional phrase.

(1) The phrase denotes Manner, Means, or Instrumentality,
and is introduced by mid, in, fturh. Examples : — mid: Bened2
52. 19: subsequuntur gaudentes et dicentes = 27. 11 : $us
sefterfylgendlice mid blisse clypiaft ; ib. 104. 9 : adjutus =
55. 16 : mid heora fultume ; Greg.2 274. 1 : iratus = 353. 20 :
mid his ierre; in: Bede2 239. 18 : Cristus incarnatus =310.
26: Crist in menniscum lichoman ; fturh: Bened2 178. 15:
admonitus = 113. 13 : fturh myngunge.

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 327

(2) The phrase denotes Time, and is introduced by cefter,
be, on, under. Examples: — cefter: Bede2 110. 23: eidem
perempto = 132. 14: cefter his siege; on: Bened2 88. 12:
dormientes= 47. 11 : on slcepe ; Greg? 218. 15= 289. 10;
under: Bede2 114. 26: albati = 140. 4: under crisman (or
Modal ?).

(3) The phrase denotes Cause, and is introduced by for.
Examples : — Bened.2 96. 20 : excommunicatus = 52. 5 : for
amansunge; Greg.2 28. 12 (51. 14); Greg2 68. 18 : miseratus
= 99. 22 : for mildheortnesse ; Greg2 124. 5 : supernaB formi
dinis et dilectionis spiritu afflatus = 169. 3 : for Godes lufum
y for Godes ege; Bede2 32. 30 : fame confeeti = 54. 2 : for
hungre ; Gen. 19. 29: Deus recordatus Abrahams liberavit
Lot = alysde L. for Abrahame; Gen. 45. 3 : nimio terrore
perterriti =for ege.

(4) The phrase denotes Condition and is introduced by
butan : Mat.2 22. 25 : non habens semen = butan bearne.

IV. BY A VERB IN THE INFINITIVE MOOD.

Occasionally the Latin appositive participle is translated
by an infinitive. Examples: — (1) I he Uninfiected Infinitive :
(a) Without a subject: Bened.2 10. 13 : Et sifugientes gehenna?
poenas ad vitam voluinus pervenire perpetuam = 5. 5 : And
gif he hellewites suslaforbugan willaft and to ecum life cuman ;
Bede2 1)9. 25 : uerbis delectatus promisit= 122. 33 : "Sa ongon
he lustfullian iSaBs biscopes wordum and geheht ; etc. ; (b) With
a subject: Bede2 46. 5: ad iussionem regis residentes . . . pree-
dicarent = 58. 28 : Da het se cyning hie sittan . . . and hie
. . . bodedon; Mat2 27. 26.— (2) The Inflected Infinitive:
Greg2 178. 25: ita nonnunquam quibusdam audita vera
nocuerunt = 237. 11: sua dereft eac hwilum sumum mou-
num ftaBt so£ to gehierenne; Greg.2 300. 15: ut cum . . .
tune quasi a nobismetipsis foras etiam alios instruentes ex-
eamus = 385. 9 : Ac eft ftonne . . . ^onne bio we of •Sasre
ceastre ut afasrene, ^a3t is of urum agnum inge'Sonce, o~Sre

328 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

men to Iceranne ; Bede2 8. 10: omnes ad quos hsec eadem
historia peruenire poterit . . . legentes siue audientes suppliciter
precor, ut = 486. 8 : ic ea-Smodlice bidde . . . ftsette to eallum
•$e ^Sis ylce steer to becyme . . . to rcedanne o&5e to gehyranne
ftset, etc.; Bede2 54. 24 : si ... actura gratias intrat = 76. 12 :
"Seah fte heo . . . Gode $oncunge to donne . . . gange; Ps.
Th.2 9. 12.

V. BY AN ATTRIBUTIVE PARTICIPLE.

The Latin appositive participle is at times translated by an
Anglo-Saxon attributive participle. Examples: — Bened2 24.
13 : ut non solum detrimenta gregis sibi commissi non patia-
tur = 14. 8 : ftset he him ^aes befcesten eowdes nanne sefwird-
lan nsebbe; ib. 92. 14 (49. 18), 146. 11 (78. 10); Greg.2 22. 12
(43. 14), 126. 7 (171. 11); Mat. 17.' 14.

VI. BY AN ABSOLUTE PARTICIPLE.

Rarely the Latin appositive participle is translated by an
Anglo-Saxon absolute participle. Examples : — Mat2 13. 1 :
In illo die exiens Jesus de domo, sedebat secus mare = On
•Sam dsege ftam hcelende ut-gangendum of huse he sset wiiS
«a S£e; Mk2 5. 2, 16. 12 ; Mat2 17. 14 ; Lk2 1. 63, 17. 7 ;
Oros2 33. 29 (34. 1). (See Aba. Pte. in A.-8., pp. 8, 13.)

VII. BY AN ADVERB.

Occasionally the Latin appositive participle is turned by
an adverb. Examples : — Greg2 360. 18 : Hinc iterum iratus
dicit = 435. 1 1 : he cwseft eft ierrenga; Greg2 402. 18, 21 :
cautus . . . sollicitus = 467. 1, 3 : wcerlice . . . geornlice ; Ps.
Th2 16. 10: projicientes = forsewenlice.

VIII. BY AN ADJECTIVE.

The Latin appositive participle is at times translated by an
Anglo-Saxon adjective. Examples : — Bede2 108. 32 : scio . . .

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 329

quse uentura tibi in proximo mala formidas = 128. 25 : ic wat
. . . hwylc toweard yfel "Su fte in neahnesse forhtast; Bed#
82. 5 : adlatus est quidam . . . oculorum luce priuatus = 100.
3: -5a Isedde mon forS sumne blindne mon; Mat.3 8. 16:
multos dcemonia habentes — manege deofol-seoce.

IX. BY A SUBSTANTIVE.

Rarely a Latin appositive participle is represented in Anglo-
Saxon by a substantive. Examples : — Bened2 116. 7 : Mensis
fratrum edentium lectio deesse non debet = 62. 3 : GebroiSra
gereorde set hyra mysum ne sceal beon butan rsedinge; Greg.2
160. 16, 17 : Egit . . . doctor, ut prius audirent laudati, quod
recognoscerent, et postmodum, quod exhortati sequerentur =
213. 20. 21 : Sua gedyde se . . . lareow 'Seet hie seres'S gehier-
don %a heringe %e him licode for^sem ftset hie aBfter ^a3m iSe
lusftlicor gehierden %a lare.

330 MOEGAN CALLAWAY, JK.

CHAPTER V.

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN THE
OTHER GERMANIC LANGUAGES.

In the main, the uses of the appositive participle in the
other Germanic Languages tally with those found in Anglo-
Saxon. My discussion must be brief not only because of
the want of space but also because of the lack of a com-
prehensive treatment of the appositive participle in these
languages. But the treatises of Douse and of Gering answer
admirably for Gothic ; those of Falk and Torp, of Lund,
and of Nygaard for the Scandinavian languages ; those of
Dietz, O. Erdmann, K. Forster, Mourek, Rannow, Seedorf,
Seiler, and Wunderlich, for Old High German ; that of
Barz for Middle High German ; and those of Behaghel and
Pratje for Old Saxon. Mourek, Pratje, and Rannow do
not classify their examples according to use. Perhaps it is
not improper to state that, while this chapter is based on
the statistics of others, the interpretation thereof is my own.

1. Gothic.

In the Introduction I have already commented on the
unwisdom of Gering's excluding the adjectival (relative)
participle from the appositive use. Ignoring this, we find
the appositive participle freely used adjectivally, adverbially,
and co-ordinately (though Gering does not use the last term).
As Liicke has shown with reference to the absolute participle,
so it is with the appositive participle : Ulfilas was a slavish
translator; and his usage represents, I believe, the genius

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 331

of the classical (especially Greek) and not of the Germanic
languages (see II. below). But at times even Ulfilas turns
the Greek appositive participle by a finite verb, Gering (p.
313 fF., 399 ff.) giving not a few examples of the same (over
fifty subordinate and twenty-five co-ordinate verbs) ; whereas
the turning of a Greek finite verb by a Gothic appositive
participle is very rare (four * examples, according to Gering,
p. 401).

I append a few examples from Gering : /. Adjectival
(Relative) (Gering's attributive) : Mat. 8. 9 : Jah auk ik manna
im habands uf waldufhja meinamma gadrauhtins = Kal yap
eyw avOpcoTros el/j,L . . . €%cov VTT' ejjLavrbv crrparicora^ ; L.
2. 13: managei harjis himinakundis, hazjandane guj; jah
gtyandane = TLXr/dos crrpaTids ovpaviov alvovvrwv rov Oeov
xal \€<y6vTcov ; II. Adverbial: Mat. 27. 63 : qa)> nauh libands
= elirev eri £o>z/ (temporal); Mk. 6. 20: Herodis ohta sis
lohannen, kannands ina wair garaihtana jah weihana =
'Hp&)S?7? e<£o/3etTO TOV ^\toavvi]v, eiSco? avrov avSpa Si/catov
/cal ayiov (causal) ; J. 6. 6 : )?atuh ]?an qa|? fraisands ina =
ToOro Se e\€yev iretpd^wv avrov (final); Mat. 6. 17: ij>
|?u fastands salbo haubi]? )?ein := Su Be vrjo-revcov akeL-^rai
aov rrjv Ke4>d\rjv (conditional according to Gering, but may
be temporal) ; Lk. 2. 48 : sa atta ]?eins jah ik winnandona
sokidedum J?uk = o Harrjp a-ov Kayo) o^vvw/jievoi e&rovfjiev
<re (modal: manner); Mk. 6. 5: siukaim handuns galagjands
gahailida = appwcno^ eTTiOels ra? %etpa? lOepaTrevcrev (modal :
means, Gering's instrumental); /. 7. 15: hwaiwa sa bokos
kann unuslaistys? = LTw? ovro? fypd^ara olSev fj,rj fjLefjLadr]Ka)<;
(concessive, Gering's limitative) ; III. Co-ordinate (not treated
by Gering as such) : Mat. 6. 31 : Ni maurnai]? nu qtyandans
= Mr) ovv pepijjivria-eTe \eyovres ; Mk. 9. 12 : Ij> is andhaf-
jands qaj? du ini = o Be aTTOKpiOels elirev

*But since, in making this statement, Gering limits himself to the
adverbial uses of the appositive participle, there must be more than four
examples in all. I have myself found about this number in Mark.

332 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

2. The Scandinavian Languages.

According to the statements of Lund, of Falk and Torp,
and of Nygaard, the appositive participle has had the same
history in the Scandinavian languages as in Anglo-Saxon.

As Lund's Oldnordisk Ordfojningslcere * is out of print, it
is best, perhaps, to quote in full what he has to say of the
appositive use of the participle in Old Norse, together with
his examples (§ 149) : " Tillsegsformerne, isaBr den handlende,
f qjes (som hosstillet) til et navneord i ssetningen for at betegne
en med hovedhandlingen samtidig (eller fortidig) handling
eller tilstand, der star saledes i forbindelse med hovedhand-
lingen, at den ikke alene kan bestemme dens tidsforhold, men
ogsa dens made og andre omsta3ndigheder, som grund, anled-
ning, betingelse, modssetning osv., hvilke forhold almindelig
ellers (som pa Dansk) udtrykkes ved bissetninger (med bindeord
eller henf0rende udtryk) eller ved en forholdsordsforbindelse.
Skont denne brug ikke er meget almindelig (som i Gra3sk og
Latin), tjener den dog ikke sjselden til at give talen korthed
og bojelighed, da tillsegsformerne pa denue made kunne fojes
ikke alene til ssetningens grundord, men ogsa til genstanden,
hensynet og andre led deri." Then follow his examples :
Hlsejandi Volundr h6fsk at lopti, gr&tandi Boftvildr gekk or
eyju. Volundarkv. 27. — (Hann) hafSi tekit lax 6r forsinum
ok dt blundandi. Sn. Edd. 72. — Or hans sr<5u sofanda t6k
guiS eitt rif ok fylldi rtim rifsins me'S horSi. Gisl. 44, 66. —
Sa sera norroana^i, kennandi sinu fdtsekd6m ok vanfceri t6k
|?etta verk upp a sik af boftskap ok forsogn fyrri sag^s vir^u-
ligs herra. Stjdrn 2. — Sa er kaupir vis vitandi (sdens, med
sit vidende, saledes at han ved) Grdg. I., 15. — Hon drottningin
]?etta #jandi (hoc videns, ved at se dette) fylldist spdleiksanda
ok maBlti sva. Biskupa S. 217. — At fengnum andsvorum
spur^ra luta ok offhrSu miklu fe. Alex. 51. — Drukku jarlar

* For the loan of this book I am indebted to Professor James Morgan
Hart, who also kindly called my attention to the work of Falk and Torp.

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 333

ol J^egiaudi (tiende a : uden at rabe dertil), en cepanda olker
st6-S. Hervar. 41. — In the next paragraph (§ 150) Lund
discusses the attributive use of the participle; and some of
the examples there given would come under our " adjectival "
use of the appositive participle.

In their recent work, Dansk-Norskens Syntax i Historisk
Fremsstilling, Falk and Torp briefly treat the appositive use
of the participle not only in Old Norse but also in the modern
Scandinavian languages. Their statement is an admirable
supplement to that of Lund, and is worthy of quotation (§ 67.
3) : "Apposition af participier forholder sig vsesentlig som
adjektivernes. Ved prsesens particip forekommer appositiv
brug i oldnorsk kun i laBrd stil : hon misg0r$i etandi af tressins
dvexti; talafti ]>dfyrir sinum monnum svd mcelandi. Enduu er
udtryk som : jeg gik igang med arbeidet stolende paa bans 10fte ;
trodsende alle hindringer traengte han frem, fremmede for den
egte folkelige udtryksmaade. Den seldre kancellistil yndede
saadaune veudinger : paa eet audhet stedt talindis om bandt
siger han saa (P. Elies.) ; T. gick vd emod dennem berendis
hostiam (Abs. Fed.) ; andre breffue lydendis at (St. D. Pr.) ;
jeg befaler dig Gud 0nskendis dig aid lyksalighed (Pout.) ;
befalendiss dig hermed gud og himmelen (Chr. VI.). Ved
fortidsparticip findes appositiv brug i oldnorsk klassik prosa
kun i et parenkle udtryk : ]>d lagu ]>ar fyrir Danir komnir
6r leV&angri. I lasrde skrifter forekommer ogsaa foranstillet
apposition : utgenginn af skola heldr hann sik nu upp d leik-
manna hdtt ; 6r sinu valdi kastadr do hann i myrkvastofu.
Endnu er forbindelser som : forladt af alle d0de han i ensom-
hed ; opbragt herover p0nsede han paa haBvn, ganske uhjem-
lige og fremmede for godt landsmaal. Uden anst0d er
derimod den efterstillede apposition i udtryk som : Gud
sendte sf n s0n, f0dt af en kvinde ; til en by, kaldet Ephrem.
I den seldre kunstige stil })aatra3ffes vendinger som : rigdom
ther ijlde brughet giffuer orsage till alwerdsins honiodt (P.
Elies.); aalije, ther mange menniskir smwrde met worde
karscke (ib.). Sml. § 139, 1." The section cited runs:
13

334 MOEGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

"Appositivt particip til betegnelse af den en hovedssetning
underordnede handling, erstattende en relativ, tids-eller
aarsagsssetning, er i det hele og store en fremmed brng i
nordisk : se § 67, 3. I vort skriftsprog er denne udtryksmaacle
ikke sjelden : ban gik bort, p0nsende paa ha3vn ; ankommen
til by en, gik ban straks ned til bavneu. I dagligtalen
anveiides den aldrig. Anderledes hvor participiet betegner
subjektets tilstand under bandlingen. Her fungerer det som
adjektiv, idet dette kan anvendes paa samme maade : Outrun
grdtandi gekk 6r tuni; ban gik slagen derfra (sml. ban gik
glad bort) ; se § 68, 2 b."

Nygaard considers that the use of the participle in Norse
prose is largely due to Latin influence. As I have not had
access to his article on Den Lcerde Stil i den Norr0ne Prosa,
I quote the summary of the Berlin Jahresbericht for 1896 :
"Der gelehrte stil zeigt sich in der nordischen prosa : 1. in
der erweiterung des gebrauchs des part. prasens, das in
volkstumlichen stile nicht allzu haufig angewendet wird.
Auf dem gebrauch dieses part, hat im gelehrten stil das lat.
part, prsesens und das gerundium eingewirkt. 2. Auch der
gebrauch des part. prat, ist in dem gelehrten stil wesentlich
erweitert. Namentlich wird das part, prset. haufig mit
prapositionen (at, eptir) verbunden ; wir haben bier eine
koustruktion, die dem lat. abl. absol. entspricht."

3. High German.
(1) Old High German.

I have been surprised to find how closely the uses of the
appositive participle in Old High German correspond to those
in Anglo-Saxon. True, Tatian has no Anglo-Saxon counter-
part, for he is as slavish in following his original as is Ulfilas ;
and has hundreds of examples of the uu-Germanic co-ordinate
participle. But the more original Otfrid and Isidor are quite
different. In Otfrid and Notker the modal participle was

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 335

so common that it developed an adverbial ending in -o (O.
Erdmann, Syntax der Sprache Otfrids, p. 219), as in Otfrid,
IV., 12. 53 : er fuor ilonto ; v., 9. 14 : ir get sus drurento. The
modal use is found, too, in Isidor. In Isidor and in Otfrid,
again, the adjectival use of the preterite participle is common,
while that of the present is comparatively rare, being limited
as in Anglo-Saxon to participles with slight verbal power.
The other uses are rare in both writers. Isidor, for instance,
has only four examples of the co-ordinate participle, all
from quedan ; two are in direct translation of the Latin dicens,
and we may add also the other two, though dicens does not
occur in these two passages. But eighteen times Isidor trans-
lated a Latin co-ordinate participle by a finite verb (nine
co-ordinated and nine subordinated). Clearly, then, if Isidor
and Otfrid are true types, the co-ordinate participle was as
unnatural in Old High German as in Anglo-Saxon. In the
Benediktinerregel, finally, the present participle often answers
to a Latin gerund in the ablative (Seiler, p. 470).

Examples : (1) Adjectival (Relative) : — Tatian, 88. 2 : Uuas
sum man dar drizog inti ahto iar habenti in sinero unmahti =
Erat autem quidam homo ibi triginta octo annos habens in
infirmitate sua; Otfrid, ill., 20. 1 : gisah einan man, blintan
giboranan; Tatian, 107. 1 : Inti uuas sum arm betalari ginem-
nit Lazarus = Et erat quidam rnendicus nomine Lazarus ; (2)
Adverbial: — Otfrid, I., 17. 73: sie wurtun slafente fon engilon
gimanote (temporal); Tatian, 192. 2: Inti anderu managu
bismaronti quaduu in inan = Et alia multa blasphemantes dice-
bant in eum (modal: manner); Tatian, 12. 3: inti inan ni
findanti fuorun uuidar zi Hierusalern inan suochenti (causal
and final); Otfrid, v., 12. 26 : er ingiang ungimerrit, duron
so bisperrit (concessive); Otfrid, I., 8. 6 : thiu racha, susgidan,
nam thes huares thana wan (conditional); (3) Co-ordinate:—
Otfrid, 1 , 13. 18 : barg thiu wort, in herzen ahtonti ; Tatian,
6. 6 : Maria uuarlihho gihielt allu thisiu uuort ahtonti in ira
herzen = M. autem conservabat omnia verba haec conferens
in corde suo ; Tatian, 54. 6 : antvvurtenti quad zi in = re-

336 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

spondens dixit ad illos; Tatian, 81. 2 : sprah in quedenti —
locutus est eis dicens.

(2) Middle High German.

The story is the same in Middle High German, if we may
take Barz's * statistics of the Nibelungenlied and Iwein as true
for Middle High German in general. Here the adverbial
participle denoting manner is very common, and we meet with
sorgende, swigende, unwizzende, etc., as in Anglo-Saxon. But
the adverbial participle denoting means is practically unknown,
and the other uses of the adverbial appositive participle are
rare. Those cited as temporal and as final occur in close con-
nection with verbs of motion, and waver between predicative
and adverbial uses. The adjectival (relative) use is almost
exclusively confined to the preterite participle. The co-ordi-
nate use is not known.

Examples from Barz : — (1) Adjectival (Relative) : Nib. 2.
3: ein vil edel magedin, daz . . . sin, Kriemhilt geheizen ; Nib.
833. 2 : die truogen liehte pfelle . . ., geworht in Arabin ; (2)
Adverbial: Nib. 1065. 1 : vil lute scriende daz liut gie mit im
dan (temporal) ; Nib. 2333. 3 : ez giengen iuwer helde zuo
disem gademe gewafent wol ze vlize (temporal) ; Nib. 502. 3 :
sorgende^ wahte er (modal : manner) ; Iw. 3227 : er stal sich
swigende f dan (modal); Iw. 6113 : daz ist unwizzende f gesche-
hen (modal) ; Iw. 531 : daz ich suochende rite einen man
(final); ib. Iw. 4163, 5775.

(3) New High German.

The fullest recent treatment accessible to me of the apposi-
tive participle in New High German is that by von Jagemann
in his Elements of German Syntax ; of which this section of

*Paul does not treat the construction.

fBarz (p. 22) puts this under Adverbialer Gebrauch des Participiums, not
Appositiver Gebrauch.

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 337

my paper is scarcely more than a summary. In § 124,
4a, he gives the three following examples of the appositive
participle in New High German : " She sat weeping by the
bedside of her mother = Sie sass weinend am Bette ihrer
mutter; He entered the room in silence = Schweigend trat
er in das Zimmer; Pierced by an arrow he sank to the ground
= Von einem Pfeile getroffen sank er zu Boden." To me,
however, the participle in the first example appears to be
used predicatively. The remaining two are appositive, the
former denoting manner and the latter cause. In § 125,
notwithstanding, we are told : " Present participles should
not be used in German to express adverbial relations of
time, cause, or manner." * I do not know how to
reconcile the italicized part of this statement with example
two above, unless for the moment Professor von Jagemann
had in mind the statement made in § 124, 3c: "A limited
number of present participles are no longer felt as such, but
as common adjectives, and they may therefore be used
predicatively and adverbially*: He is absent = Er ist ab-
wesend ; She sang charmingly = Sie sang reizend ; " and
thought that he had put Schweigend trat er in das Zimmer
under § 124, 3c instead of § 124, 4a. Be this as it may, his
statement that the present participle may be used adverbially is
in strict keeping with the tradition not only of High German,
but also of the Germanic languages in general, so far as it
is used to denote manner. The non-use of the present parti-
ciple to denote time and cause is what our preceding investi-
gation has led us to expect.

Again, we learn that the " adjectival " use of the present
appositive participle is not allowed (§ 124, 46) : "This [i. e.,
the appositive] use of a participle, however, is not permitted
in the numerous cases in which an important limitation of a
noun is to be expressed. The participle should then be used
attributively, before the noun, preceded by its own qualifiers

* The italics are mine.

338 MORGAN CALL A WAY, JE.

(see § 231, 2) ; or else a relative clause should be substituted :
The book lying on the table was a Greek Grammar •= Das
auf clem Tische liegende Buch war eine griechische Grammatik,
or Das Buch, das auf dem Tische lag etc. ; The candidate
receiving the largest number of votes is elected = Der die
meisten Stimmen erhaltende Candidat (or derjenige Candidat,
welcher die meisten Stimmen erhalt,) ist erwahlt; I prefer
an edition of Moliere's works printed in France = Ich ziehe
eine in Frankreich gedruckte Ausgabe von Moliere's Werken
(or eine Ausgabe von . . . die in Frankreich gedruckt ist,) vor."

Finally, we are told that the "co-ordinate" use of the
present participle is not common (§ 124, Ic) : "A present
participle should not, ordinarily, be used to express an idea
as important as, or more important than, that expressed by
the finite verb, but a co-ordinate verb should be used instead
of the participle : He sat at his desk all day, writing letters
= Er sass den ganzen Tag an seinem Pulte und schrieb
Briefe ; He stood on the mountain, looking down into the
valley = Er stand auf dem Berge und sah ins Thai hinunter."
This usage is in strict accord with that of Early West Saxon.

No specific statement is made as to the governing power
of the present participle when used appositively. But, from
§ 124. 4b&c above quoted, we learn that the present apposi-
tive participle seldom governs an object in New High German,
the participle with an object usually being attributive.

As to the past participle, von Jagemann has this to say
(§ 126): "Although past participles are more frequently used
in German to express adverbial relations than present parti-
ciples, yet they cannot be used with the same freedom as in
English, and it will often seem best to make substitutions for
them similar to those just indicated for present participles."

4. Old Saxon.

In Old Saxon (cf. Behaghel, and Pratje, §§ 156, 159) we
again meet with the adverbial participle denoting manner

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 339

(sorgondi, gornondi, greotandi, etc.), but not means. The only
instances of the temporal participle are with slapandi and
libbiandi. The other adverbial uses are unrepresented (cf.
Behaghel, § 300). The adjectival (relative) use is commoner
with the preterite than with the present. The co-ordinate
participle is unknown ; for the participles cited by Behaghel
in § 300, B., are either predicative or modal.

Examples (all from the Heliand as given by Pratje) : — (1)
Adjectival (relative): 3391 : huo ik hier brinnandi thrauuerc
tholon ; 2776 : that man iro Johannes . . . hobid gam alosit
fan is lichamen ; (2) Adverbial : Temporal: 1013: that gi so
libbeandi thena landes uuard selvon gisahon ; 701 : sagda im
an suefna slapandion on naht ; — modal : 4588 : thuo bigan
thero erlo gihuilic te oftremo . . . sorgondi gisehan ; 4071 :
griot gornondi; 2996: gruotta ina greotandi; etc. Pratje
(§ 155. 2) considers uuillandi an adverb in 1965 : thoh hie
. . . manno huilicon uuillandi forgeve uuatares drincan.

II.

Despite the professed incompleteness of the preceding pres-
entation of the uses of the appositive participle in the Ger-
manic languages exclusive of English, I believe it warrants
us in drawing certain general conclusions concerning the origin
of the appositive participle in the Germanic languages, as
follows : —

1. The adverbial participle denoting manner and the adjec-
tival (relative) past participle are most probably native to the
Germanic languages. Perhaps, too, the adjectival and the
temporal uses with words like be, live, and sleep are native.

2. All other uses of the appositive participle, whether
present or past, are probably of Greek or Latin origin.

3. That the appositive use of the present participle having
an object is derived from the Greek and the Latin is highly
probable. True, the appositive participle in Ulfilas and in
Tatian governs an object with extraordinary frequency; but

340 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

I believe that a comparison of the examples with the originals
would show that in almost every case the construction is in
direct imitation of the Greek and the Latin. Neither Gering
nor Mourek cites all the examples of the participle with an
object; Mourek does not give the Latin original along with
the Old High German ; and I have not made an exhaustive
comparison in either case. But the slight study I have given
forces me to the above conclusion. I find, for instance, that
out of 151 present participles with a direct object in the
Gothic Mark J39 correspond to Greek participles with
objects; and that in most of the twelve exceptional cases
the participle translates a Greek participle elsewhere in Mark.
Mourek cites 140 examples of quedenti in Tatian ; and, on
turning to the Latin, I find that in 137 of these instances
the Old High German participle is a direct translation of
dicens. More than this, not a few of the Greek participles
with an object that are cited by Gering (pp. 313 ff., 399 ff.)
are turned by a finite verb, whereas the whole number
of Greek verbs turned by Gothic participles is very small.
In the more original Old High German texts, a present
participle with an object is almost unknown. Of the
appositive participles (present) cited from Otfrid by Erd-
mann only three have an object (ringenti, i. 12. 22; hel-
senti, I. 11.46; drdnti, I. 5. 50). With the present appositive
participles cited from Isidor by Rannow, an object occurs only
four times, each time the participle of the verb quedan; in
two of these instances in direct translation of the Latin diceris,
and in the other two without any corresponding participle
in the Latin. More than this, eighteen times Isidor translated
a Latin participle having an object by a finite verb (co-ordi-
nated nine and subordinated nine), nine of these being forms
of dicens. — In Middle High German, too, an object is seldom
found. Barz cites only three examples from Iwein and the
Nibelungenlied (Nib. 2292 : gie Wolf hart . . . houwende die
Guntheres man ; Iw. 531 : daz ich suochende rite einen man ;
Iw. 4163 : die reit ich suochende), and these are in connection

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 341

with a verb of motion, and waver between the predicative
and the appositive use. — The comparative infrequency of the
present participle with an object in New High German is
known to all. — As for Old Saxon, not one of the genuine
appositive participles cited by Pratje has an object.

III.

The other Germanic languages employed about the same
substitutes for the Greek and Latin appositive participle as
did Anglo-Saxon; hence this topic may be treated with great
brevity.

1. The Co-ordinated Finite Verb.

Of the co-ordinated finite verb, Gering (p. 399 f.) cites
about twenty-five examples from Ulfilas, such as Mk. 5. 41 :
Kparricras rfjs %e*p09 TOV TrcuSiov Xe^yet = fairgraip bi
handau J;ata barn qajmh ; «7. 18. 22 : eSotcev paTricr/jLa . . . elTrwv
= gaf slah . . . qa]mh ; etc. — This translation is common in
Old High German, also, ten examples occurring in Isidor
(Kannow, p. 99 f.) : 39. 26 : etiam locus ipse coruscans
miraculis . . . ad se omnem contrahat mundum = ioh auh
dhiu selba stat chischeinit . . . ioh zi imu chidhinsit allan
mittingart ; 4. 33 : respondens . . . ait = antuurta . . .
quad ; etc.

2. The Subordinated Finite Verb.

For the dependent clause as a translation of the Greek and
Latin appositive participle in the other Germanic languages,
see Gering, p. 395 ff.; Rannow, p. 100.

As to Gothic, Gering gives but two or three examples of
this locution in his treatment of the appositive participle («/". 13.
30 : Xaftcbv . . . e%r)\6ev = btye andnam }>ana hlaib Jains, suns
galaty ut; Philip. 1. 27) ; but, as already stated, Gering limits
the term appositive to the " adverbial " uses of the participle,
and excludes therefrom the "adjectival," unwisely considering
all the latter " attributive." Many of his attributive parti-

342 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

ciples are, according to our definition, appositive; and in not
a few of these examples, as Gering states (p. 313), the Greek
participle is translated by a Gothic subordinated finite verb
introduced by a relative pronoun, as in : Mat. 6. 4, 6. 18 : o
Trarrfp aov o /3Xe7ro>z> ev rc5 KpvTTTw = atta }>eins saei saihwty
in fulhnsja ; Eph. 1.3: #eo? . . . o ev\oyrj(ra<$ rjfia^ = guj? . . .
izei ga]>iu]>ida uns ; etc., etc. (about fifty examples in all). More-
over, as Gering tells us (p. 317 if.), the Greek substantivized
participle is often turned by a Gothic dependent clause. In
reality, then, the translation of a Greek appositive participle
(especially in its adjectival use) by a subordinated finite verb
is very common in Gothic.

In Old High German, also, the dependent finite verb often
translates a Latin appositive participle. Rannow (p. 100)
cites ten examples from Isidor ; of which I quote two only :
19.14: secundum Moysi sententiam dicentis = after Moyses
quhidim, dhar ir quhad ; 21. 16 : sed semetipsum exinanivit
formam servi accipiens = oh ir sih selbun aridalida, dhuo ir
scalches chiliihnissa infenc.

3. The Prepositional Phrase.

Rauuow (p. 102) cites one instance of this construction in
Isidor: 19. 26: incarnatus et homo factus est = in fleisches
liihheman uuardh uuordan ; which should be compared with
Bede2 239. 18 : Cristus incarnatus = 310. 26 : in menniscum
lichoman.

4. The Infinitive.

Gering (p. 397) cites one example from the Gothic : Mk.
10. 46 :j eKaOrjro irapa rrjv 6Sov TTpoa-aiTtoV = sat faur wig du
aihtron, but the Greek participle here is better considered
predicative.

5. The Adverb.

! Four examples of this locution occur in Gothic (Gering,
p. 306): 2 Cor. 13. 2, 10 : CLTTWV ypd(f)co = alja\ro melja ;
Phil. 1. 25, 27.

THE APPOSITIVE PAETICIPLE IX ANGLO-SAXON. 343

6.. The Adjective.

This substitution is very common in Gothic (Gering, p.
301 f.) : Mk. 6. 9 : uTroSeSe/^o? — gaskohs ; etc., etc. — Six
examples occur in Isidor (Rannow, p. 102) : 33. 5 : mente
caecati = muotes blinde; etc.

7. The Substantive.

This construction occurs in Gothic (Gering, p. 303) and
in Old High German (Rannow, p. 102). Examples: — (a)
Gothic : Mat. 8. 16 : TrpocnjveyKav avrw Scu/jLovi^ofjievov?
TroXXou? = atberun du imma daimonarjans managans; etc. ; —
(6) Old High German : Isidor, 21. 30 : dominus numeravit
scribens populos = druhtin saghida dhazs chiscrip dhero folcho
(see Rannow's footnote on this sentence).

344

CHAPTER VI.

THE ANGLO-SAXON APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE
AS A NORM OF STYLE.

In my dissertation on The Absolute Participle in Anglo-
Saxon a chapter is given to " The Absolute Participle as
a Norm of Style," which is based on Professor Gildersleeve's
essay " On the Stylistic Effect of the Greek Participle." In
that chapter is discussed the stylistic effect not only of the
absolute participle, but also, incidentally, of the appositive
participle. I need not, therefore, detail here the theory there
laid down, the more so that nothing has occurred to make
me change the view then expressed. Since, however, this
study may come into the hands of some to whom the earlier
paper is not accessible, I shall briefly state the theory there
given, and add such comments and illustrations as may
seem called for by the present detailed investigation of the
appositive participle in Anglo-Saxon.

The theory as to the stylistic effect of the absolute parti-
ciple in Anglo-Saxon was summarized in these words (p. 52) :
" The stylistic effect of the absolute participle in Anglo-
Saxon was much the same as in the classical languages :
it gave movement to the sentence ; it made possible flexibility
and compactness. But, owing to the artificial position of
the absolute construction in Anglo-Saxon, its stylistic value
was reduced to a minimum, was indeed scarcely felt at all.
The absolute participle rejected as an instrument of style, the
Anglo-Saxon had no adequate substitute therefor. The two
commonest substitutes, the dependent sentence and the co-
ordinate clause, as used in Anglo-Saxon, became unwieldy
and monotonous. Brevity and compactness were impossible ;
the sentence was slow in movement and somewhat cumber-

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 345

some. The language stood in sore need of a more flexible
instrument for the notation of subordinate conceptions, of
such an instrument as the absolute dative seemed capable
of becoming but never became."

In the light of the foregoing history of the appositive
participle in Anglo-Saxon, does this theory as to the stylistic
effect of the absolute participle apply likewise to the apposi-
tive participle? Was the appositive participle as artificial a
construction as the absolute participle? or was it more or less
naturalized, if not native, in Anglo-Saxon ?

Undoubtedly the stylistic effect of the appositive participle
in Anglo-Saxon is to give the sentence movement, flexibility,
and compactness ; and it does this to a somewhat greater
degree, I think, than could an equal number of absolute
participles. To test this statement one need only compare
a half dozen pages of Alfred, in which, as we have seen, the
appositive participle (especially in certain uses) is rare, with
the same number of .zElfric's, which are strewn therewith.
The slowness and the clumsiness of the former are not more
patent than the rapidity, the flexibility, and the grace of the
latter. Space does not allow quotations, nor are they necessary.

But the above statement is with reference to the appositive
participle as a whole, whereas in Anglo-Saxon, as we have
learned, the appositive participle has three sharply differenti-
ated uses. Let us look at each for a moment by itself.

In its adjectival use, the appositive participle contributes
not only to rapidity and flexibility but also to picturesqueness.
The two former effects were attained in both prose and
poetry; the last, as a rule, in poetry only; and all three
to a greater or less degree in all stages of the Anglo-Saxon
period, at least so far as the preterite participle was con-
cerned. For the adjectival use of the present participle the
Anglo-Saxon went to the Latin, though not until the Late
West Saxon period. What a boon this borrowing was is
clearly revealed by a comparison of Alfred with ^Elfric or
with the Gospels; or, to give a more modern illustration,
by comparing modern English with New High German, as,

346 MORGAN CALL AW AY, JE.

for instance, in the examples quoted from von Jagemann in
chapter v.

Of the adverbial uses, the Anglo-Saxon at the outset
wielded with skill only that denoting manner, as in swigende
cwceft, etc. How poor he was as compared with us may
be readily realized if we suppose the modern Englishman
deprived, as is the modern German, of the ability to express
means, time, cause, concession, etc., by the appositive parti-
ciple. That was the situation of the Early West Saxon ;
but, thanks to ^Elfric and the translators of the Gospels,
Anglo-Saxon borrowed from the Latin what was so sadly
needed ; and .^Elfric's pages run as smoothly as do those of
a modern Englishman. The fact, however, that these newly
introduced uses of the adverbial appositive participle are so
rare in the latter part of the Chronicle and in Wulfstan,
leaves it doubtful whether the wisdom of ^Elfric's adoption
received as immediate recognition as it deserved ; though the
non-use in the former may be due to the fact that it professes
to be merely a bald record of facts. It seems probable,
nevertheless, that these uses did not become normal for
English until after the close of the Anglo-Saxon period,
largely perhaps through the Anglo-Saxon and Middle English
translations of the Bible, supplemented by French influence.

The Anglo-Saxon stood in greater need, I think, of the
.co-ordinate participle than of the adverbial (exclusive of
that denoting manner) ; and Alfred's persistent refusal to
use it accounts in a large measure for the monotony of
his style. Again .ZElfric and the translators of the Gos-
pels, discerning the need, borrowed from the Latin, this
time the co-ordinate participle, and thereby gave to English
a construction that, judged from the standpoint of style,
was of immense value. Here, also, the difference between
Alfred and ^Elfric is the difference between modern English
and modern German, happily illustrated in the examples
cited from von Jagemann above (chapter v). A third
time .ZElfric's lead was coldly followed by his immediate
successors (Wulfstan and the author(s) of the later Chronicle),

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 347

and the construction hardly became fixed until the Middle
English period, again through the help of the biblical
translations. The foregoing applies chiefly to the present
participle; the preterite participle, being inherently unsuited
to the co-ordinate use, is as rare in ^Ifric as in modern
English.

The chief shortcoming, however, of the Anglo-Saxon apposi-
tive participle was, I take it, that in no one of the three uses
did the present participle originally have the power of govern-
ing an object in construction. The introduction of this use,
from the Latin, by^lfric and the Late West Saxon translators
constitutes, to my mind, their chief contribution to English
style; for, with the possible exception of the infinitive and
the modern gerund, no single construction has contributed so
much to the compactness and the flexibility of the modern
English sentence. Here, too, the innovation was tardily
accepted, being seldom resorted to by Wulfstan or by the
author of the Peterborough Chronicle. The general adop-
tion of the construction in English was largely due to the
influence of the biblical translations. Finally, the difference
between Alfred and JElfric is once more paralleled in that
between modern English and modern German.

The Anglo-Saxon substitutes for the appositive participle call
for only brief comment. The most frequent substitute, the
co-ordinated finite verb, does well enough for the co-ordinate
participle, but for no other, since it ignores shades of meaning.
The next most common, the subordinated finite verb, is ill
fitted to take the place of the co-ordinate participle, since it
unduly subordinates the idea of the participle to that of the
principal verb ; but it is an excellent substitute for the adjec-
tival and the adverbial participle, and is often so used not
only in Anglo-Saxon but also in modern English and in the
other Germanic languages. Undoubtedly, however, the ap-
positive participle is a more flexible instrument for the deno-
tation of subordinate ideas than is the dependent finite verb ;
witness the difference in this regard between modern English
and modern German.

348

CHAPTER VII.
RESULTS.

The following are in brief the results that I believe to be
established by this investigation : —

1. In Anglo-Saxon the appositive participle occurs oftenest
in the nominative case, occasionally in the accusative and the
dative, rarely in the genitive.

2. In Anglo-Saxon, especially in Late West Saxon and in
the poems, the appositive participle is often not inflected,
much oftener indeed than has hitherto been supposed. For
details see p. 150ff.

3. When inflected, the appositive participle almost invaria-
bly follows the strong declension.

4. As a rule, the appositive participle follows its principal,
though occasionally (about 100 times in all) it precedes.

5. The uses of the appositive participle are three-fold : —

(1) Adjectival, in which the participle is equivalent to a
dependent adjectival (relative) clause.

(2) Adverbial, in which the participle is equivalent to a
dependent adverbial (conjunctive) clause; subdivided into (a)
modal (manner and means), (6) temporal, (c) causal, (d) final,
(e) concessive, and (/) conditional clauses. Some participles
denoting manner, however, are equivalent, not to dependent
adverbial clauses, but to simple adverbs.

(3) Co-ordinate, in which the participle is substantially
equivalent to an independent clause ; subdivided into (a) the
" circumstantial " participle in the narrower sense, which
merely denotes an accompanying circumstance ; and (6) the

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 349

" iterating" participle, which simply repeats the idea of the
chief verb.

^6. As to the origin of the appositive participle in Anglo-
Saxon, in some uses it is (A) native and in others (B) foreign
(Latin).

A. Native.

(1) In the following uses the appositive participle appears
to be a native English idiom : —

(a) The adjectival use of the preterite participle and, per-
haps, of a few slightly verbal present participles like living
lying (licgende), etc.

^ (b) The modal use of the present and of the preterite parti-
ciple when each denotes manner.

(2) The grounds for the statements in (1) are as follows :
(a) In the uses there specified the appositive participle is found
in Early West Saxon, (b) It occurs, also, in Late West Saxon,
in the more original prose (the Chronicle, the Laws, and Wulf-
stan), and in the poems not known to be based on Latin
originals as well as in those believed to be translations, (c)
In a number of instances in the translations, the Old English
participle does not correspond to an appositive participle in
the Latin original, but to various other constructions (see
Tables at end of Chapter m). (d) In these uses the apposi-
fcive participle is common in the other Teutonic languages.

B. Foreign (Latin).

^ (3) In the uses named below, on the contrary, the apposi-
tive participle is not a native English construction, but is
borrowed from the Latin : —

(a) The adjectival use of the present participle except in a
few that have but little verbal force like living and lying.
14

350 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JK.

(b) The modal use of the present and of the preterite
participle when each denotes means.

(c) The temporal use of the participle except in a few
slightly verbal present participles like being, living, and
sleeping.

(d) The causal use of the present and of the preterite
participle, though the latter may in part be an extension
of the adjectival preterite participle.

(e) The final use of the participle, though this may in a
slight degree be due to the frequent predicative use of the
present participle after verbs of motion in Anglo-Saxon.

(f) The concessive use of the participle.

(g) The conditional use of the participle,
(h) The co-ordinate use of the participle.

(i) The present participle (whether adjectival, adverbial,
or co-ordinate) when it governs an object in construction.

(4) The statements of (3) are believed to be substantiated
by the following considerations : (a) The specified uses of the
appositive participle are practically unknown in Early West
Saxon ; and, in the few instances in which they do occur,
they are usually in direct translation of a Latin appositive
participle. (6) In hundreds of instances Alfred expressly
avoided the constructions, although they occurred on every
page of his Latin originals, (c) These uses are very rare
in the more original prose (the Chronicle, the Laws, and
Wulfstan), and in almost every instance have been traced to
a direct or indirect Latin prototype, (d) They are very rare,
too, in Anglo-Saxon poetry, and are found almost exclusively
in the poems known to rest on Latin originals, (e) They
seldom occur in the other Germanic languages except in the
more slavish translations. (/) They are very common, on
the other hand, in the later and closer Anglo-Saxon transla-
tions (jElfric, the Gospels, and Bend1). — The cogency of these
arguments varies somewhat with respect to the several uses ;
concerning which see the detailed treatment in Chapter in.

(5) From the above statements ( (l)-(4)) as to the different
origin of the several uses of the appositive participle we draw

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 351

this general conclusion : Anglo-Saxon was favorable to the
appositive participle with pronounced adjectival (descriptive)
force, but was unfavorable to the appositive participle with
strong verbal (assertive) force.

7. Originally in Anglo-Saxon, the present appositive parti-
ciple did not have the power of governing a direct object in
construction. All present participles with a direct object are
due to Latin influence.

8. Nor did the preterite appositive participle have the
power of governing an accusative of the direct object. Only
one example occurs in the whole of Anglo-Saxon literature,
and that is in imitation of the Latin original.

9. The Anglo-Saxon substitutes for the appositive parti-
ciple were : —

(1) Most frequently a co-ordinated finite verb.

(2) Somewhat less frequently a subordinated finite verb.

(3) Not infrequently a prepositional phrase.

(4) Occasionally a verb in the infinitive mood, both in-
flected and uninflected.

(5) Rarely an attributive participle.

(6) In a few instances an absolute participle.

(7) Occasionally an adverb.

(8) Rarely an adjective.

(9) Very rarely a substantive.

10. Although my treatment of the appositive participle in
the other Germanic languages is professedly not exhaustive,
it seems to make probable the following conclusions : —

(1) The uses of the appositive participle in the other Teu-
tonic languages are on the whole substantially the same as in
Anglo-Saxon, but with considerable variation in the different
languages and authors. Ulfilas and Tatian, for instance, are
much more addicted to the appositive participle, especially
that with verbal force, than are any of the Anglo-Saxon
writers except the author of Benet1, which is a gloss.

352 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

(2) In the other Teutonic languages as in Anglo-Saxon the
appositive participle is of two-fold origin. The adverbial
participle denoting manner, the adjectival (relative) past parti-
ciple, the adjectival present and the temporal participle in
such verbs as be, live, and sleep, are perhaps native. In all
other uses the appositive participle, whether present or past,
is probably of Greek (Ulfilas) or Latin origin, though in one
or two of these functions, as in Anglo-Saxon, the appositive
participle may in part be an extension of the attributive or
the predicative use of the participle. The present appositive
participle with an object in construction seems to be of wholly
foreign origin.

(3) The substitutes for the appositive participle are about
the same in the other Germanic Languages as in Anglo-
Saxon.

11. As for its stylistic effect, in Anglo-Saxon as in the
classical languages the appositive participle conduces to
rapidity, compactness, and flexibility. In the adjectival use
of the preterite participle and in the adverbial use of the
present and of the preterite denoting manner, this is more
or less exemplified in all periods of Anglo-Saxon ; and
in the poetry the participle contributes, also, to pictur-
esqueness. The other uses of the appositive participle were
practically ignored by the Early West Saxons, and to this
fact are largely due the unwieldiness and the monotony of
Alfred's style. ^Elfric and the translators of the Gospels, on
the other hand, adopted these uses from the Latin, and
handled the same almost as skillfully as do modern English-
men; whence results in great measure the excellence of
jElfric's style in point of flexibility and grace. But these
innovations were looked upon coldly by JElfric's immediate
successors (Wulfstan and the author of the Peterborough
Chronicle), and scarcely became thoroughly naturalized dur-
ing the Anglo-Saxon period.

MORGAN CALLAWAY, JK.

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 353

ADDITIONS AND COERECTIONS.

Originally not intending to discuss the inflection of the
appositive participle, I did not in my first draft jot down all
the peculiar forms observed. After deciding to treat the
subject, I thought that the Introduction could be held in type
until the final proving and printing of the Statistics. But,
as their bulk made this impossible, the following additions
and corrections are called for in the section of the Intro-
duction (iv) dealing with the inflection of the appositive
participle : —

THE PRESENT PARTICIPLE.

NS. (p. 150): — L. 7 from below: change three to two,
and strike out ^Elfr. L. S. 282. 5 ; for, after the preparation
of the Statistics, I received vol. IV of Skeat's edition of this
work, in the " Errata " of which he corrects feohtend to
feohtende. This, of course, changes feohtend in my Statistics
(p. 197, 1. 27).

L. 3 from below : change four to five, and add 104.. 16
after 95. 11.

L. 1 from below : to exceptions add -cende: Benet1 68. 1 ;
-ynde: Mat.1 9. 29.

ASM. (p. 151, 1. 6):— mfr. L. S. 78. 489 has -ande,
which reduces the number of -ende by one.

N. and A. PMFN. (p. 151, 1. 10) : to the exceptions add:
(1) masculine: -cende: Benet1 55. 4, Greg.1 123. 16: -onde:
Bede1 72. 9, Bened. 9. 7 ; -ynde: Mat.1 9. 27, 31 ; (2) neuter :
-ande: ^Elfr. L. 8. 224. 86.2

THE PRETERITE PARTICIPLE.

NSM. (p. 151, 1. 16):— Benet1 100. 3 has bepcehS for
bepceht ; and Chron. 1048 E has un&wican.

354 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

DSMN. (p. 151, 1. 22) :— insert -on after -an.

ASM. (p. 151, 1. 6 from below): — to the inflectional end-
ing add -um for -an, weak (Bede1 130. 33), and see p. 153,
where the example is quoted in full.

ASN. (p. 152, 1. 1) i—Mat.1 11. 7 has -yd instead of -ed.

NPM. (p. 152, 1. 2) -.—Laws (Wihtr., c. 4) has -yne instead
of -ene; and Benet1 113. 9 has astrehft for astreht.

NAPN. (p. 152, 1. 7): — to the inflectional endings add -u
(Greg.1 245. 8a&b), in which the participles are probably
accusatives rather than nominatives (as given on p. 173,
1. 10). Beow. 3049 has fturhetone instead of fturhetene.

GP. (p. 152, 1. 10): — to the exception add geferede:
Elene 992.

DPM. (p. 152, 1. 11):— to the inflectional ending add -e :
. Hept. (Judges 16. 7).

On p. 203, 11. 8, 18, and 25, strike out uncu%.

The following typographical errors should be noted : —
P. 146, 1. 26 : change dash to hyphen.
P. 147, 1. 2 : for rechfertigen read rechtfertigen.
P. 149, 1. 16 : for Indo-Germanie read Indo- Germanic.
P. 180, 1. 23 : for unbefohtenene read unbefohtene.
P. 181, 1. 11 : for ftinge read ftingc.

P. 185, 1. 26: for geondead = angaritia: 7. 54- read
geneadod = 5%.. 7 : angariati.

P. 288, 1. 12 : for cwedende read eweftende.

_ M. C., JR.

A NOTE OF THANKS.

I wish heartily to thank my colleagues in the School of English, Drs.
Killis Campbell and Pierce Butler, and my honored teacher, Professor
James W. Bright, for gracious help in the issuing of this monograph.
Each of the three has kindly assisted in reading the proof, and has offered
valuable suggestions for the betterment of my study.

M. C., JR.

THE APPOSITIVE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 355

BIBLIOGRAPHY.
I. TEXTS READ.

a. Anglo-Saxon.

jElf. de v. et n. Test. = Grein, JElfric de vetere et novo Testamento, Penta-
teuch, Josua, Buck der Richter, u. Hiob, vol. I of Grein' s Bibliothek der ags.
Prosa, Cassel, 1872.

JElf. Hept. = ib.

Mlj. Horn. = Thorpe, The Homilies of theA.-S. Church, 2 vols., London,
1844, 1846.

JElf. L. S. = Skeat, JElfric's Lives of Saints, E. E. T. S., nos. 76, 82, 94,
London, 1881, 1885, 1890. Vol. iv (1900) was received too late to be read
for this study. Vols. I and 11 are cited simply by page and line ; vol. in,
by number of homily and of line.

A. -S. Horn, and L. S. = Assman, Angelsdchsische Homilienund Heiligenkben,
vol. in of Grein-Wiilker's Bibliothek der ags. Prosa, Kassel, 1889. Sub-
divided into i = nos. 1-9, by ^Elfric ; and n = nos. 10-19, not by ^Elfric.

Bedel = Miller, The Old English Version of Bede's Ecclesiastical History,
E. E. T. S., nos. 95-96, 110-111, London, 1890-98.

Benedict 1 — A. Schroer, Die ags. Prosabearbeitungen der Benediktinerregel,
vol. n of Grein-Wiilker's Bibliothek der ags. Prosa, Kassel, 1885, 1888.

Benetl = ~H. Logeman, The Rule of St. Benet, Latin and A.-S. Interlinear
Version, E. E. T. S., no. 90, London, 1888.

Bl. Horn. = Morris, The Blickling Homilies of the Tenth Century, E. E. T. S.,
nos. 58, 63, 73, London, 1874, 1876, 1880.

Boeth.1 = Sedgefield, King Alfred's Old English Version of Boethius De
Consolatione Philosophiae, Oxford, 1899. [For the prose only ; the Metres
are taken from Grein-Wiilker's Bibl. der ags. Poesie.]

Christ = Albert S. Cook, I he Christ of Cynewulf, Boston, 1900.

Chron. = Plummer-Earle, Two of the Saxon Chronicles Parallel, 2 vols.,
Oxford, 1892, 1900.

Gosp.} = Skeat, The Gospels in A.-S. and Northumbrian Versions Synopti-
cally Arranged, 4 vols., Cambridge, 1871-1888.

Greg.1 = Sweet, King Alfred's W. S. Version of Oregon's Pastoral Care,
E. E. T. S., nos. 45, 50, London, 1871-2.

Laws = Liebermann, Die Gesetse der Angelsachsen, Halle, 1898-99.

Oros.1 = Sweet, King Alfred's Orosius (0. E. Text and Latin Original),
E. E. T. S., no. 79, London, 1883.

356 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

Poems = Grein-Wiilker's Bibliothek der ags. Poesie, 3 vols., Kassel, 1881-
1898. [For all the poems except Cynewulf's Christ, which see above.]

jPs. Th.1 •=. Thorpe, Libri Psahnorum Versio antiqua Latino, cum Para-
phrasi Anglo-Saxonica, Oxonii, 1835. [For the prose psalms only ; the
poetical ones are cited from Grein-Wiilker. ]

Wulfst. = A. S. Napier, Wulfstan : Sammlung der ihm zugeschriebenen
Homilien, Berlin, 1883.

b. Latin.

Bedez = Plummer, Baedae Opera Historica, 2 vols., Oxford, 1896.

Benedict * = The Rule of Our Most Holy Father St. Benedict, ed. with an
English Translation and Explanatory Notes by A Monk of St. Benedict's
Abbey, Fort Augustus, London, 1886 (?).

Benet.'1 = Latin in Benet.1

Boelh.2 = Peiper, Boetii Philosophiae Consolationis Libri Quinque, Leipzig,
1871.

Gosp.2 = Jager and Tischendorf, Novum Testamentum, Graece et Latine,
Paris, 1861.

Greg. * = Bramley, S. Gregory on the Pastoral Charge, Oxford, 1874.

Hept. 8 = Latin Heptateuch, etc., given in -3£lf. Hept., which see.

Oros.2= Latin in Oros.1

Ps. Th.* — Latin in Ps. Th.1 [The Introductions are taken from Bruce
in ii.]

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THE APPOSITIVE PAKTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 357

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Gildersleeve and Lodge : Latin Grammar, 3rd ed., New York, 1896.

Gollancz, I. : Oynewulfs Christ, London, 1892.

Gollancz, I. : The Exeter Book ; An Anthology ofA.-S. Poetry. E. E. T. S.,
no. 104, London, 1895.

Goodwin, W. W. : Syntax of the Moods and Tenses of the Greek Verb, rev.
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358 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

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THE APPOSIT1VE PARTICIPLE IN ANGLO-SAXON. 359

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360 MORGAN CALLAWAY, JR.

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M. C., JR.

PUBLICATIONS

OF THE

MODERN LANGUAGE ASSOCIATION OF AMERICA,

1901.
VOL. XVI, 3. NEW SERIES, VOL. IX, 3.

IX.— THE PKIMITIVE PRISE D' ORANGE.

The existence of a primitive Prise d' Orange, now unhappily
lost, is better attested than that of any lost poem of the Geste
de Guillaume. Indeed, there are more references to this poem
than to the majority of the poems still extant in the Geste.

The existence of a lost Prise different from the present one
is shown, first, in the Vita Sandi Guglielmi, whose date is
about 1122.1 The language of the Vita is vague, as is natural
in the biography of a saint whose life was probably far from
edifying, unless perhaps during the six years of monastic
virtue which brought to Guillaume the title of saint : " Et si
est sains, Diex Pa fait beneir En paradis celestre " (Aliscans,
641, 642).

Another bit of ancient testimony is found in the famous
forged chart of Gellone, compiled between 1120 and 1130.
This chart may be from the same hand as the Vita. Its evi-
dence is vague, but gives none the less a glimpse of a Prise
different from the present one.2

lActa Sanctorum, Mali, vi, p. 802.

2 Ch. K^villout, Etude historique et litteraire sur I'ouvrage latin intitule Vie
de Saint Guillaume, Paris, 1876 ; Romania, vi, 467.

361

362 RAYMOND WEEKS.

A third piece of evidence is to be found in the ecclesiastical
history of Orderic Vitalis, who wrote in Normandy about the
year 1130.1

Again, there is a passage in the ancient version of the
Moniage, Guillaume, date about 1150, which is thought to
contain traces of an earlier form of the legend.2

Further traces of such a legend are found in various MSS.
of the Enfances Guillaume, such as the MSS. of Boulogne, and
MSS. 1448, 774, 24369, of the Bibliotheque Nationale.

Other evidence exists in the prologue to the Charroi de
Nimes MSS. of Boulogne; in Aliscans, 1050-1061, 1144-
1153 ; and, finally in the Storie Nerbonesi, written by Andrea
da Barberino, a Florentine, about the year 1400.3

In all of these sources save the last the information to be
gleaned concerning the earlier form of the legend is very
vague, and may be said to indicate only two divergencies
from the poem still preserved, namely, in the early account
Guillaume seems to have seized Orange by a sudden feat of
arms, and the Saracen hero, Tibaut, Guillaume's great rival,
appears to have played a much more important r6le than in
the present poem.

In the Storie Nerbonesi, on the other hand, all of the data
are specific and clear, and the divergences from the present
Prise are numerous and radical.

This same radical divergence between the events of the
cycle in general as given by Andrea, and those corresponding
in the poems preserved, extends throughout the Italian com-
pilation, with few exceptions. It has long been the fashion
to consider the work of Andrea da Barberino as of little
value,4 and it is only recently that a more respectful tone has

1 Duchesne, Hist. Normannorum Scriptores, p. 598.

2 Cited by Jonckbloet, Guillaume d' 'Orange, ir, p. 129.

3 Edited by Isola, two vols., Bologna, 1877-1887. With regard to Andrea,
see "Dlysse Chevalier, Repertoire des sources hist, du moyen dge.

4Gautier, Epopees, iv, pp. 30 ss., 317, 341, 374, 438, 439, 476; Ph. Aug.
Becker, Der Quellenwert der Slorie Nerb., Halle, 1898, pp. 49, 50 ; also for

THE PRIMITIVE PRISE DERANGE. 363

been disceruable in the utterances of the critics. From my
own studies, I have become more and more convinced of the
injustice done the old Florentine music teacher, and have
several times declared that in my opinion he has, in general,
preserved for us a state of the Geste considerably more primi-
tive than that of the epics still extant.1 There can be no
doubt that the evidence of Andrea permits us to reconstruct
the elements which enter into Aliscans, a poem whose startling
inconsistencies almost all disappear in the light of the Italian
history, reinforced by that of the internal evidence of the Old
French poem. The radical reconstruction of Aliscans here
hinted at, being a reconstruction of the great central epic of
the cycle, must be followed by that of all the related epics.
For it is apparent, that if we change to any serious extent
our ideas of the former state of a central poem, we must also
change our ideas with regard to former condition of related
poems, which now fit the present central poem. If, for in-
stance, we receive new light on the former state of the legends
represented in Aliscans, we are led to examine into the effect
of this reconstruction on subordinate related poems; and the
Enfances Guillaume, the Charroi de Nimes, the Prise d' Orange,
the Covenant Vivien, the Enfances Vivien, Foucon de Candie, —
all these epics must be examined in turn to see how they are
affected by the new theories.

In making rapidly such an examination, I have reached
the Prise $ Orange, and it is my purpose to set down here
very briefly the main results of this examination. In so
doing, I am not unconscious of the doubts which my novel
conclusions will arouse. They are given for what they are
worth, and the writer may be the first to abandon certain of
them.

more favorable opinion : A. Jeanroy, Romania, xxvi, p. 190 ; O. Densusianu,
La Prise de Cordres, Soc. des Anc. Textes, p. Viu, note, pp. xi, xii ; Eolin,
Aliscans, pp. LXV, LXVI.

1 See article on " The Messenger in Aliscans," in the Child Memorial Vol.,
Oinn & Co. ; Romania, xxvin, p. 126 ff.

364 KAYMOND WEEKS.

It will be necessary to recount the events of the Prise
d' Orange in the Old French poem and in the Italian version.

The events corresponding to the Charroi de Nimes, events-
which are supposed to precede those of the Prise, are the
same in the two sources,1 save in one important point which
need not be mentioned here. The events of the present Prise
are as follows : Guillaume, having possessed himself of Nimesr
learns from an escaped prisoner, Gillibert, of the riches of
Orange and the beauty of Orable, the wife of Tibaut, who
dwells there. Guillaume goes to Orange disguised as a
Saracen, in company with Gillibert and Guielin. They obtain
an interview with Arragon, the governor of the city, and
with Orable. Guillaume's identity is discovered by the
Saracens during this interview, he is attacked, but succeeds in
shutting himself up in the palace, in company with his two
friends and Orable. They resist for some time, but are sur-
prised by the entry of the Saracens through a subterranean
passage. They are thrown into a dungeon of Orable, at her
request. Messengers are sent, to Tibaut, who is in the orient,
to tell him that his great enemy is prisoner. Orable, however,
releases the prisoners, and on her advice Guillaume sends a
messenger through a subterranean passage to Bertran, at
Nimes. The fact that the Christians are at liberty is soon
discovered ; they are retaken and cast into prison along with
Orable. Guillaume and Guielin are brought before a council
to be judged. They lose their temper and a general rnele'e
ensues, which is fortunately interrupted by the arrival of the
help from Bertran, who penetrates into the -city through
the passage above mentioned. Bertran and Guillaume take
the city, Orable is baptized, her name changed to Guibour,,
and she becomes the wife of Guillaume.

This stupid and impossible poem2 contains not a small
number of inconsistencies and repetitions. For instance, it

1 Cf. Gautier, Epopees, iv, p. 374.

2 1 am thoroughly of the opinion of L. Willems in this regard: L' Ele-
ment Historique dans le Couronnement Loois, Gand, 1896, p. 11, note 2.

THE PEIMITIVE PKISE D*ORANGE. 365

is clear from the passage where Tibaut is sent for, and makes
such preparations for a warlike campaign at Orange (1255-
1323), that he should be again mentioned in the poem. This,
however, does not occur. Among the foolish repetitions may
be given the fact that the Christians shut themselves up three
times in the palace; they are twice seized; a subterranean
passage is made use of three times. In short, so full is this
poem of wearisome commonplaces, so deficient in epic power,
that no one has yet been found to claim for it the slightest
merit.

The events of the Italian account are much the same as
those of the French poem up to the interview with Orable,
save that the escaped prisoner, here named Guidone, is the
only one to accompany Guillaume to Orange. Here are the
events of the Italian account subsequent to the point of
divergence from the French story : Orable divines who
Guillaume is during the interview. She is touched that he
should run such dangers for her, and tells him that if he can
vanquish Dragonetto, the governor, she will open the gates
to him, and accept him as her husband. She has Guillaume
conducted secretly forth from the city. He returns to Nimes,
where, in spite of the advice of Bertran, his nephew, he sets
off with a small army, leaving Bertran in charge at Nimes.
Arrived before Orange, Guillaume accomplishes wonders
against the Saracens, but is overcome by their superior num-
bers, and takes flight. He is the only Christian to escape.
He arrives exhausted and heart-broken at Nimes, where
Betran encourages him to go to Paris to ask aid of the king.
Louis receives him brutally, and only consents to help him at
the prayer of the queen. With a new army, Guillaume leaves
Paris, is joined by Bertran, and with him gains a victory
over Dragonetto, who perishes. Orable is baptized, and be-
oomes Guillaume's wife. The recital closes with the prepa-
rations of Tibaut to avenge himself on his enemy. The
divergence between the two accounts begins at about line 738
of the Prise.

366 RAYMOND WEEKS.

There can be no doubt that the form of the story in the
Italian bears more of the epic stamp than that of the Old
French poem. A perusal of the recital of Andrea will disclose
several passages which in the original must have possessed no
small power. Such, for instance, is the flight of Guillaume,
his arrival at Nimes, and the scene before the king.1

Inasmuch as my purpose is not to dwell at any length on
the version of the Storie Nerbonesi, I will simply, in passing,
mention several points out of a number which indicate that
this version is more ancient than that of the French poem
preserved. The passage cited concerning the preparations of
Tibaut for coming to Orange, which have such a strange
air in the Prise, are made clear in the Nerbonesi, where, on
Guillaume's defeat by Dragonetto, a messenger is sent to an-
nounce the victory and to ask for reinforcements. Tibaut
departs, but arrives too late. There follows the famous long
siege of Orange. Again, lines 1047-1061 of Aliscans, lines
which bear the mark of antiquity, are supported and explained
by the Italian story. Again, we read in a very important
passage in Aliscans, with regard to Orange :

Ainc n'i alerent chevalier tant vaillant
C'onques en France fuisent puis repairant.
Mar acointames Guillame a son beubant !
Car laist Orenge, as maufes le commant !

(2696-2699).

It is evident from this passage that several expeditions to
Orange had been sent out, and that all, or at best most of
them, had been unfortunate. As the poems now stand, we
know of no unfortunate expedition of this kind at the moment
when these words are supposed to be said. The only expe-
dition against Orange of which we know in poems now extant,

1 The critics have seen in these events only an imitation of Aliscans :
Gautier, fipopees, iv, p. 397; A. Jeanroy, Romania, xxvi, p. 6, note 1.
Observe, however, that the summary of the lost Prise, given by M. Jeanroy
on pp. 5, 6, follows closely the Nerbonesi. Far from these events having
been pillaged from Aliscans, this epic is the plagiarist.

367

is that led by Bertran from Nimes, as related above, and this
one was successful. One of the disastrous expeditions evi-
dently referred to in this passage was certainly the one
narrated in the Storie Nerbonesi. In other words, we find
here, in a passage of Aliscans considerably older than the
present Prise, a confirmation of the version of the Nerbonesi.

The Prise d' Orange, then, of the Storie Nerbonesi is, as
M. Jeanroy has already said,1 more ancient than that preserved
in the French poem. That it was not, however, the most
ancient version in langue d'o'il, we shall see later.

Before leaving the present point, why did the Prise of the
Italian account disappear ? Clearly enough, from the analysis
given as well as from the frequent references to the poem, it
must have possessed considerable beauty and power. It is a
mistake to suppose that such a poem could disappear under
the circumstances surrounding a central poem in a powerful
geste, without some strange combination of events.

The disappearance of this form of the Prise is so bound up
in the story of the origin of Aliscans, that it will be necessary
to sketch briefly the complicated and puzzling genesis of this
latter epic.

There existed, in my opinion, as early as 1050, the follow-
ing poems touching Orange : I. A poem of remplissage, of
which more will be said shortly, relating how Guillaume, the
hero of the court of France, went south to conquer for him-
self a fief. In this poem Guillaume is at first terribly defeated
under the walls of Orange ; he flees for his life, and is urged
by Bertran to go to the court for aid. The king at first
refuses. Wrath of Guillaume. The king yields. Return of
Guillaume with an army; conquest of Orange; marriage
with Orable, the wife of Tibaut, lord of Orange. II. A poem
telling how Tibaut came with an enormous force to retake
Orange, and avenge himself on Guillaume. A seven years'
siege of the city. When the seven years are nearly up Bertran
goes as a messenger to urge the king to help. Louis refuses

1 Romania, xxvi, pp. 5, 6.

368 RAYMOND WEEKS.

at first. Wrath of Bertrau. The king yields. Orange is
relieved. III. A poem somewhat more recent than the other
two, telling how Guillaume marched to the rescue of Vivien
in Spain. He arrives after the death of Vivien, and is him-
self fearfully defeated, escaping alone from the field, and being
pursued clear to Orange. The city is at once besieged by
Tibaut and others. A messenger is despatched to court and
to Guillaume's friends. An army is formed, the Saracens are
defeated. About the middle of the twelfth century there arose
a new poem, IV, which sang of another siege of Orange, this
time by Desrame. Guillaume goes as a messenger to court, the
king grants aid without difficulty. There accompanies Guil-
laume a grotesque hero, Renoart, who, although Saracen born,
is to play the great r6le in the delivery of Orange. The
army of Desrame is routed. This poem, called doubtless the
Enfances Renoart, or the Renoart, attained an enormous popu-
larity because of its comic elements.

It will be noticed that there are certain similar events in
these epics. The hero is twice defeated and flees alone (I and
III), once before Orange, once in Spain; he is three times
besieged in the city (II, III, and IV), twice by Tibaut, once
by Desrame. A messenger goes four times for aid ; this mes-
senger in two cases is Guillaume himself (I and IV) ; in II
the messenger is Bertran, in III a more obscure hero who
need not be named. The king refuses aid twice (I and II) ;
the messenger becomes angry on these two occasions, and the
king ends by yielding. Orange is relieved three times by an
army from France (II, III, IV).

The present Aliscans is a composite ]3oem, made up from
the above four sources. I imagine this to have come about,
not through any studied blending by any one remanieur, but
little by little, through the habit of the jongleurs of singing
selections of the most striking scenes from these four related
epics. It is very possible that a jongleur might ask what
song his audience desired, and that one might say, " Sing the
defeat of Guillaume," another, " The wrath of Guillaume or

369

of Bertran," another, " The death of Vivien," another, " The
siege of Orange," another, " The exploits of Renoart." Now,
many of these events in one poem were paralleled in another,
which facilitated the process of union. The jongleur was led
little by little to form a connected series of striking scenes from
his repertoire. In this way arose the much admired epic of
Aliscans, which begins with the death of Vivien (drawn from
III), which gives Guillaume's flight (drawn in the main from
III), which contains the touching farewell between Guillaume
and his wife (drawn from II), the departure and journey north-
ward of the messenger (drawn from II), the magnificent scene of
the messenger's wrath before the king (drawn from I and II),
the departure of the relieving army (drawn from II and IV),
the relief of Orange, and the defeat of the Saracens (drawn
from II and IV). It would have been surprising if in this
composite poem the events preserved their historic order.
Vivien, for instance, who " historically " died in the source
III, here dies at the very opening of the new poem. He
could not well die in the proper sequence, because the poem
must record the vengeance taken for his death. It will be
noted, too, that Desrame" has almost entirely replaced Tibaut,
the hereditary rival of the old epic Guillaume. The scene of
the defeat and flight of Guillaume is placed near Orange,
although the defeat which followed the death of Vivien took
place " historically " in Spain, and similarly with other points.

The success of Aliscans, which contains a larger number of
fine scenes than any other French epic, meant the effacement
and disappearance of all the four sources whence came the epic.
All of these poems have disappeared, save only as fragments
have been preserved in some later poems.

In the case of the Prise d' Orange, there were particular
reasons why this epic could not subsist in the presence of
Aliscans. The main reason is that the new poem followed,
in its main lines, the action of the Prise. Indeed, the Prise
d' Orange had probably a more pervasive and important in-
fluence in the formation of the new epic than any other poem.

370 RAYMOND WEEKS.

The Prise began with an expedition and battle in which
Guillaume lost all his men, and was forced to flee alone.1
Similarly with Aliscans. In the Prise, Guillaume was com-
forted by Bertran, his nephew and most tried friend. Similar
events in Aliscans, where Guibour plays the r6le of comforter.
In the Prise, Guillaurae went for help, was refused by the
king, lost his temper in the royal presence, and ended by
obtaining the desired aid. Similar events in Aliscans. In
both poems the siege is raised, and the enemy defeated.2
Clearly, the popularity of Aliscans once established, the Prise
d' Orange was doomed in the form under discussion.

The poem, however, was not wholly abandoned. The o.ld
beginning could still be in the main utilized. A second com-
panion was given Guillaume in his first visit to Orange, in
order that there might be a messenger to send by the secret
passage, an event which was of course lacking in the older
poem. The larger part of the first seven hundred and thirty-
eight lines of the present Prise are doubtless from the older
version, that given in the Storie Nerbonesi.

Shall we conclude from the above arguments that the version
of the Prise d' Orange, as related in the Nerbonesi, was the
earliest in langue d'oil? By no means. There undoubtedly
once existed a Prise d' Orange in which Guillaume went
directly to Orange from the north, with no mention of Nimes.
There are many things which indicate this. In the first place,
no ancient source seems to know anything about Nimes in
connection with Guillaume, whereas a number of these early
records mention Orange in this connection. The remark of
Leon Gautier is to be cited in this matter, where he says that
the troubadours often mention the Prise d* Orange, but never
the taking of Nimes, of which they seem to know nothing.3

*If Guillaume loses Vivien in Aliscans, he loses Ruberto and Guidone in
the account given in the Nerbonesi : vol. n, p. 396 ff.

2 Not to complicate matters, no mention is made here of the fact that the
version of Aliscans which preceded its fusion with the Renoart must have
had a hero other than Renoart to play the grand role.

3 Les Epopees, iv, p. 392.

371

There is, however, a stronger argument, one which requires
some mention of the Charroi de Nimes. The purpose of this
poem is to link together the epics in the north that sang of
one Guillaume and those in the south that sang of a different
Guillaume. At the time when the poets of north France
were becoming interested in the epics of Provence, they found
there a series of poems which celebrated a hero named Guil-
laume, whose seat was Orange. At this same time, there
existed at the north .a series of poems in langue d'o'il which
sang of another hero named Guillaume. When the northern
poets translated the Provenpal epics into north French, people
began to wonder if these Guillaumes were one and the same
person. Accordingly, some remanieur conceived a plan for
showing that these two were one. He created a poem telling
how Guillaume, who had been a trusted lieutenant of Charle-
magne and a faithful friend to Louis, was mistreated by this
latter, and in wrath declared that he would go to the south-
ward and conquer a realm for himself. He went through
the fiction of receiving these lands as a fief from the hand of
Louis, a proceeding calculated to flatter the pride of the
northerners. It is this poem which I believe to be the original
Prise d' Orange in langue d'o'il. For there can be no doubt,
the northern Guillaume must have gone direct to Orange, the
seat of the southern Guillaume, the object of the poem being
to achieve their identity as speedily and naturally as possible.1

1 Several MSS. of the Enfances Guillaume speak of the taking of Orange,
but do not mention that of Nimes, which is surprisingly late testimony of
the newness of the legend concerning Nimes. For instance, the following
lines from the Enfances, cited by Jonckbloet, Guillaume d'Orange, ir, p. 146 :

Par moi orres la chanchon de Guillaume,
Com il conquist premierement Orenge,
Et com il prist dame Guiborc a feme.

Guillaume says to the king in Aliscans (31 18-3120) :

Tu me juras, ke 1'oirent mi per,
Ke s'en Orenge m'asaloient Escler,
Ne me fauries tant com peusies durer.

No mention, of course, of Nimes.

372 KAYMOND WEEKS.

This fusion of the northern and southern cycles was proba-
bly an accomplished fact by the first quarter of the eleventh
century, and perhaps earlier. The epic family of Guillaume
appears already in the Fragment de la Haye, and in the
Pelerinage de Charlemagne. This fusion can only have been
brought about by such a poem as has been mentioned, and
this poem cannot have been the Charroi de Nimes, which is
posterior by more than a hundred years to the time of the
soldering together of the two cycles.

In the original Prise here postulated, what can have been
the motive ascribed for Guillaume' s change of seat from the
north to the south? Two motives suggest themselves: he
may have been sent southward by the king to repulse the
Saracens, and take from them Orange ; or the motive may
have been that of the present Charroi, namely, the thank-
lessness of the king. The first of these motives is perhaps
nearer historical, if the word can be employed in this case ;
the second appears to possess far more poetical power, and
accords much better with the character of the epic Guillaume.
The first would explain satisfactorily how the hero came to go
to Orange, but not why he remained there. The Couronne-
ment, for instance, recounts several expeditions of our hero,
who always, however, returns to the court. It is not to be
denied, of course, that some plausible reason for a continued
residence at Orange could have been found to serve in the
poem mentioned, such for instance as the possible desire of
Guibour to remain at Orange, or the necessity of keeping a
Christian outpost in the edge of the enemy's country. None
the less, the action of the Charroi offers the most probable
and most poetic motif to serve as the trait d' union between
the two cycles.

It being established, then, that the original Prise d' Orange
in the langue d'o'il represented Guillaume as going direct to
Orange, and it being very possible that the motive for his
change of residence was that given in the present Charroi de
Nimes, we are led to ask whether the famous opening of the

THE PRIMITIVE PRISE DERANGE. 373

Charroi, one of the most splendid fragments of the old French
epic, may not be the original beginning of the lost Prise. As
has been above asserted, the original Prise, together with all
epics which were put under contribution to form Aliscans,
disappeared. If we suppose the beginning of the Charroi to
have been that of this original Prise, we can readily believe,
masterly as it is, that it would either have been comprised in
the new poem — Aliscans — or would have been incorporated
in some other poem. Such a splendid fragment could hardly,
under the circumstances, have been altogether lost. Now,
are there reasons why this fragment could not have been
easily included in the series of magnificent tableaux which
were linked together and which formed Aliscans? There
appear to be such reasons. In the first place, the new poem
was to recount the touching death of a Christian hero,
accompanied with that of an entire Christian army, and the
vengeance that was exacted for these misfortunes. Strung on
this string of action were to be a long series of splendid and
stirring scenes. The opening scene of the present Charroi
could only have figured as the opening scene of the new poem,
because of the chronology of events. The only objection to
the new poem beginning in this way, would be a certain con-
gestion in the action, a somewhat improbable rapidity in the
events supposed to succeed each other. For here would be a
hero quarreling with his feudal master, the king of France ;
going to possess himself of lauds in the Saracen country ;
succeeding in his enterprise to the extent of becoming absolute
lord of Orange ; marching to the aid of one of his nephews,
Vivien, whom he finds dead ; undergoing a terrible defeat ;
fleeing for his life ; besieged in Orange ; escaping, and going
to court for help; obtaining this help after great difficulty;
returning to the neighborhood of Orange; defeating the
Saracens and relieving the city. Assuredly this would be an
amazingly complex and prolonged action for a single poem.
The present Aliscans contains eight thousand four hundred
lines. The prefixing of the fragment mentioned would carry

374 RAYMOND WEEKS.

the total to nearly or quite nine thousand lines. It may be
that an early version of what we call Aliscans began with the
masterly scene of the Charroi, and we may one day discover
evidence that such a version was sung. It appears, however,
much more probable that such was not the case, the main
reason for this being the difficulty of according the action of
the poem which was in process of formation.

Supposing, then, that the original Prise d' Orange conducted
Guillaume directly to the walls of Orange,1 and that the motive
for his change of seat was that given in the Charroi, it is by
no means improbable that the C/iarroi preserves for us the
beginning of the lost Prise. Under this theory, the opening
of the Prise not having been utilized when the geste was
going to pieces — perhaps during the first third of the twelfth
century, — some poet who saw the beauty of the masterly lines
mentioned, continued them after his own fashion, and left us
the present Charroi de JVimes. That the two parts of the
Charroi are in striking contrast, and that the first part — say
the first eight hundred and fifty lines — is as full of epic fire
as the remainder is of common-place trivialities, has been
observed by several critics, and must be felt by all who read
the poem. Indications of a difference in the two parts of the
poem are also to be found in the language and in the verse
forms, although arguments of this kind can have no great
value until they are based on a collation of all the manu-
scripts. Whether the above hypothesis offers a tenable expla-
nation of the differences between the two parts of the poem,
may of course be doubted, but that these parts have different
origins cannot be doubted.

The supposition is advanced in this brief article that the
primitive Prise d' Orange may not have been entirely lost, and
that the beginning of this celebrated epic may be preserved to
us in the first part of the Charroi de Nimes.

RAYMOND WEEKS.

1 See the excellent article by M. Jeanroy, already cited : Romania, xxvi,
pp. 5, 6, 10, 21.

X.— ON THE LATIN SOURCES OF THEBES
AND &N&AS.

The French poems Troie, Th&bes, and j^n&is, contempora-
neous with one another in the sixth and seventh decades of
the twelfth century, have many characteristics in common.
They each repeat in a modernized form, and with incidents
and details suited to their own age, the story of one of the
great epics of classical antiquity, the Iliad, the Thebaid, and
the Aeneid. They also combine with this traditional outline
of adventure and conquest the narrative of romantic love
and courtship, as conceived by Western Europe in the Middle
Ages. And finally they each and all show an effort to attain
some degree of excellence in style and composition. Thus
they form a class by themselves, animated, as they are, by
the same spirit and having the same purpose in view, and
are the first exponents in the modern tongues of the ideals of
chivalry.1 The sources of these poems, therefore, are an object
of unusual interest to the student of mediaeval literature.

The origin of the Roman de Troie has been in dispute for
more than a generation. Dunger2 and Greif3 have argued
that the French poem is based directly on the texts of Dares
and Dictys whiqh have come down to us. Korting,4 Jackel,5

1 It is evident that there is no resemblance between these poems and the
various versions of the story of Alexander the Great in the vernacular.
The octosyllabic Alexandre is earlier than any of them and possibly also
the decasyllabic ascribed to a certain Simon. But these versions do not
seem to have affected our romances, unless the name of Naptanebus, who
fights with Turnus in the Eneas (9496-9544), was suggested by the deca-
syllabic Alexandre. See Paul Meyer, Alexandre le Grand, etc., Paris, 1886,
vol. i, page 28, line 61.

2 H. Dunger, Die Sage vom trojanischen Kriege, etc., Dresden, 1869.

3 W. Greif, Die mittelalterlichen Bearbeitungen der Trojanersage, etc., Mar-
burg, 1886. JSo. 61 of Stengel's A usgaben und Abhandlungen.

* G. Korting, Dictys und Dares, Halle, 1874.

5R. Jackel, Dares Phrygius und Benolt de Sainte-More, Breslau, 1875.

375

376 F. M. WARREN.

and Constans l hold, on the contrary, that the immediate
predecessor of Troie was an enlarged Dares, if not an enlarged
Dictys, but that their manuscripts have since disappeared, at
least those of the larger Dares. Further discussion of the
question seems likely to prove barren of results. We there-
fore choose our side in the struggle and adopt the opinion of
Korting and Constans. For in no other way can we explain
the two notable self-contradictions in Troie. In lines 18814—
18837 of that poem,2 Palamedes dies from a wound made by
an arrow shot at him by Paris. Benoit is following Dares
here. In an episode which extends from line 27551 to 27745
the same hero meets his fate through the treachery of Ulysses
and Diomed, who stone him to death. Here the French poet
is translating Dictys. It might be claimed that Benoit had
forgotten the first account by the time he had arrived at
the second. This explanation would be perhaps a plausible
one bad Benoit not been guilty of the same offense in the
meantime. For he gives two versions also of the death of
Telamonian Ajax. In lines 22529-22768 of Troie he tells
how the Greek chieftain, though mortally wounded by Paris,
has still strength enough to cut him to pieces before expiring.
The episode is an unusual one and memorable. But within
the comparatively short space of four thousand lines our
translator quite destroys the effect he had produced by
relating Ajax's quarrel with Diomed and Ulysses over the
possession of the Palladium and his assassination one night
by unknown enemies (Troie, 26485-27062). Dares is the
authority for the first version, Dictys for the second. The
length of these two passages does not admit of the excuse
of absentmindedness on the part of Benoit. We can only
conclude that he followed most blindly the text which lay
before him. He repeatedly assures us that he adds nothing
to that original narrative, and contradictions so glaring as

J L. Constans in Petit de Julleville's Histoire de la Langue et de la Littera-
turefrain$aise, I, 204-214.

3A. Joly, Benoit de Sainte-More et le Roman de Troie, etc., Paris, 1870-1871.

ON THE LATIN SOURCES OF THEBES AND 6x6 AS. 377

these force us to believe him. In other words, Benoit could
not have possessed the requisites for independent composition,
and four-fifths of his Troie are probably a direct translation
of some Latin romance which went under the name of Dares.
The same means of controling the conjectural original of
the Roman de Thebes1 do not exist. Between it and its
ultimate source, Statius's epic poem of the Thebaid, there is
no prose intermediary known. The author of Th&bes rarely
owns up to any literary obligation. He merely states he is
translating a Latin book "called Statius," because laymen
could not read Latin.2 The "book" in question may have
been the Thebaid itself, or a prose narrative based on the
Thebaid. Constans 3 inclines to the latter view, Paul Meyer 4
to the former. There are, Meyer says, no facts which can be
cited to show that such a prose work ever existed. But the
French poem could be more easily explained if Constans's
opinion of its original should hold. Between Statius's epic
and the mediaeval story of love and combat there are differ-
ences which a translator would hardly have introduced. The
mythology of the Thebaid is quite suppressed, also many of
its episodes, while some which are retained in outline are
recast and modified. Wholly new episodes of a romantic
nature are inserted. And these changes are not the result
of any failure on the part of the author of the Roman de
Thebes to carefully copy the incidents of his source. He
reproduces enough of the details of Statius to show that he
was not rhyming from memory. Besides, in the passage
already referred to, he says he is translating a text.6 A com-

lLe Roman de ThZbes publiS par L. Constans, Paris, 1890. Social des
anciens textes franpais. 2 vols.

2 Cf. Constans, op. cit., n, 106 :

II le fist tout selonc la letre

Dont lai ne sevent entremetre ;

Et por chou fu li romans fais

Que nel savoit hon ki fust lais. 27-30.

3 Op. cit., n, cxix-cxxii. 4 Romania, xxi, 108. 5 See note.

378 F. M. WARREN.

parison of many of the shorter incidents and accessories of
the main plot of the Thebaid and the Roman attests his
veracity.

We find among these likenesses the correspondence between
the two poems in the names of their leading characters ; also
such minor allusions as the reflection on the walls of Argos
(Thebaid, I, 380-382), magnified into a glowing carbuncle
set on the city's tower (Roman de Thebes, 629-638) ; Tydeus's
stature (Theb., I, 414-415 ; Roman, 744) ; Polinices's aversion
to telling his lineage (Theb., I, 466-467 ; Roman, 843-844) ;
the blushes of the Argive princesses (Theb., i, 536-537;
Roman, 945-946), and the likening of them to Pallas and
Diana (Theb., I, 535; Roman, 935) ; the fear of Etiocles that
Polinices's wife might quarrel with his family (Theb. II, 438-
441; Roman, 1339-1342); Thiodamas, who in the Thebaid
(vm, 278) is a "descendant" of Melampus, and in the
Roman (5119-5120) is merely " younger;" Tydeus's blow
which misses Haemon (Theb., vm, 528-538; Roman, 6025-
6030) ; Atys's desire to be seen by Ismene as he goes to the
fight (Theb., vm, 564-565; Roman, 6101-6102); Ismene's
dream in which she sees Atys's mother (Theb., vm, 633-634 ;
Roman, 6203-6210). All these resemblances, and others
cited by Constans,1 are details which would escape the
memory merely. They show constant reliance on a text of
some kind.

This text, the direct source of the French poem, could not
in all probability have been the Thebaid itself, because of
the changes and modifications which the story has undergone
in the Roman. If we assume that the latter is taken from
Statius's work without any intermediate version we must
admit that it is an adaptation and not a translation, an
adaptation which to all intents is an independent composi-
tion. While the outline of events in the Thebaid is retained,
the mass of the material in the Roman is drawn from other
sources, a proceeding which the ordinary mediaeval translator

1 Op. cit., ii, cxx-cxxii.

ON THE LATIN SOURCES OF THEBES AND ENEAS. 379

would be unable to carry out. In other words the power
of invention disclosed by the Roman de Thebes is consider-
able, and invention was a rare faculty among the writers of
the vernacular in the middle of the twelfth century. Leav-
ing out of consideration the spirit of the Roman, and the two
long episodes of Monflor (lines 2681-3464) and Daire le
Roux (lines 7642-8600), which are unknown to the Thebaid,
the plot of Thebes shows that great liberty has been taken
with Statius's poem. Books I and II of the Thebaid are
repeated quite fully in the Roman, Books III and IV
appear only partially, Book V is fairly well outlined, VI is
much abridged, VII, VIII, and IX are freely used, X, XI,
and XII very sparingly. Besides this evidence of a critical
mind the Roman begins with the story of Oedipus, an intro-
duction which Statins did not give and which he only hints
at in his opening lines.

In the body of the French poem there are also evidences
of an arranger who had views of his own. The battle under
the walls of Thebes in the Latin epic is worked over in the
mediaeval romance. Compare, for instance, Jocasta's mission
to the Greeks in the Thebaid (vn, 474-482) with the Roman
(3494-3978); also the tiger episode in the Thebaid (vn,
564-607) with the pne in the Roman (4283-4308). Statius
puts Capaneus's exploits before Etiocles's (Theb., vn, 675,
688). In the Roman (4551 ff.) they come after. Menoeceus
is introduced after Haemon and Atys in the one (Theb., vin,
498, 555 ff., 598 ff.)? aud before them both in the other
(Roman, 5615 ff., 5991 ff.).1 Yet the French poem later on
scrupulously observes the order of Book IX of the Latin.

Certain incidents of the Thebaid have also been recast.
The tiger episode, already cited, is a case in point. The
death of Atys, who is reviled by his slayer, Tydeus, in the
Latin epic (Theb., vn, 600) and bewailed in the French
version (Roman, 6100ff.), is another. The death of Hippo-

1 See also Constans, op. cit. n, cxxi-czxii.

380 F. M. WARREN.

medon (Theb., ix, 144-546 ; Roman, 8995-9063) is a third.
Constans (loc. cit.) has adduced others. All go to support the
assumption that Th&bes is the product of an invention which
is independent of the Thebaid. If we do not allow the
translator this faculty then there must have been a text
intermediate between the two poems.

There is some internal evidence presented by the Roman
in favor of the theory of such a text, Latin in language.
The statement of the versifier himself that he was translat-
ing, the use of the word po&te for pr dire (Roman, 5081, 6453)
to which Constans calls attention,1 and which is apparently a
rendering for vates,2 and also a change of a single detail in
the episode of Hypsipyle. In the Roman (2432-2439) the
serpent which killed her charge is itself dispatched by means
of a sharpened stake. The Thebaid at the same point of the
narrative says it was killed with a lance, hasta (Theb., v,
570). But four lines above (v, 566) it had spoken of the
lance as trabe fraxinea, a locution which may have suggested
the weapon used in the Roman. If a translator is responsible
for this invention he is construing his task with unusual
freedom. On the other hand an arranger could have fittingly
profited by the idea suggested by the simile.

It is also worthy of comment that the French poem rarely
cites its authority. The manuscripts mention Statins but a
few times, and only in one place do they all seem to unite
in making him sponsor for a particular statement. In speak-
ing of a cup presented to Polinices we read :

Si com dit li livre d'Estace,

Li pomeaus en fu d'un topace. 7823-7824.

The Thebaid, however, does not relate the episode in which
this cup appears, and we are forced to infer either that the
French poet is telling a falsehood in quoting Statius or that

1 Op. cit., n, 341-342.

* There is no corresponding passage in the Thebaid for either of these
citations.

ON THE LATIN SOURCES OF THEBES AND ENEAS. 381

he is translating from some text which went under Statius's
name. The Thebaid does, indeed, contain quite a full de-
scription of a cup (i, 539-551), and an arranger of the poem
might have borne this feature in mind and reserved it for
some future need. But a mere translator would hardly have
postponed the incident so long.

An additional and weighty reason for supposing that the
direct original of the Roman de Th&bes was a Latin narrative
may be found in those literary allusions of the French poem
which are wanting in the Latin epic. In the Roman (601-
604) we read of the twelve winds ruled by Aeolus. Pliny
enumerates the winds l in his Historia Naturalis (n, c. 46),
but does not mention Aeolus. Virgil (Aeneid, I, 52) and
Solinus (page 54, line 18 of Mommsen's edition) speak of
Aeolus as king of the winds, but do not state their number.
Again the Roman (763-764) adds to Tydeus's history as given
by Statius (Theb., I, 488-490) a detail which belongs to
ancient tradition. There is an erudition here which we
would not expect to find in a translator. Other allusions
in the Roman might be derived from Latin works in current
use in the schools of the Middle Ages. The reference to
Arachne (Roman, 901-902) may come from Ovid (Met., vi,
1 ff.). The War of the Giants 2 pictured on Arnphiaraus's
chariot (Roman, 4731-4748) may also be taken from Ovid
(Met., i, 161-155). The forging of the chariot by Vulcan
(Roman, 4715-4720) sounds like the echo of the lines on
Achilles's shield in the Pindarus Thebanus (862-S64).3 A
related passage in the Pindarus Thebanus (875-884) seems
to have served the French poet in his decorations for Adrastus's
tent (Roman, 2921-2946). The Mappemonde in a second

1So does Honord d'Autun in his De Imagine Mundi (i, c. 54), edited
by Migne.

' als Capaneus's ancestry, "de Forine as Geanz" (Roman, 2008) derived
from the notion that, like them, he was undone by Jove's thunderbolts?

3 Poetae Latini Minores. Recensuit et emendavit Aemilius Baehrens.
Vol. in: Italici Ilias Latina, Leipzig, 1881.

382 F. M. WARREN.

description of the same tent (Roman, 3985-4020) repeats
such views of geography as may be found in Honore d'Autun
(De Imagine Mundi, I, c. 5, 6).1 The Dircean gate of Thebes,
mentioned by Statius (Theb., vm, 357), receives an explana-
tion in the Roman (5250) which could have been suggested
by one of Hygiuus's Fabulae (no. 7). There is a variety and
a richness in these allusions which indicate scholarship of a
no mean order, a scholarship which we can hardly believe
was possessed by the mediaeval versifier. Yet his erudition
furnished them, or else he found them in his original. We
prefer the latter alternative, and would assume that there was
a Latin romance intermediate between the Thebaid and the
Roman de ThZbes.

An examination of Jifato,2 later than Th&bes by a decade
or two, strengthens in a general way the theory of the exist-
ence in the twelfth century of Latin prose romances, fineas,
however, is closer to VirgiPs epic than Th&bes is to Statius's.
Its story follows quite closely the narrative of its great
predecessor. Little new material is incorporated into it, if
the love passages are excepted, and it does not contain such
fine episodes as those of Monflor and Daire le Roux (in
Th&bes). fineas, nevertheless, shows the work of an arranger,3
who transposes and abridges at will. Its beginning is taken
from the Second Book of the Aeneid, so as to present a
sequence in time. There is another slight change in the
order of events when the Seventh Book is reached.4 LaviniVs
engagement to Turnus is mentioned in the French poem
(3233 if.) in a passage based on the Latin epic (vn, 249 ff.),
which contains no reference to this particular relationship.
In other words the author is planning his great episode some

1See also Hyginus's Astronomica, B. Bunte's edition, Leipzig, 1875.
Pages 27-29.

2 tineas. Texte critique publi£ par Jacques Salverda de Grave. Halle,
1891.

sThe editor discusses this question in his Introduction (xxxi-xxxii)
and decides in the negative.

4 Compare the Aeneid, vn, 195 ff., with Eneas, 3175 ft.

ON THE LATIN SOURCES OF THEBES AND ENEAS. 383

time before he reaches it, a precaution of which a translator
is rarely guilty. There are also changes of fact as well as
sequence in the French version. Hecuba (jEneas, 759-760)
is substituted for Helen (Aeneid, i, 647-650). Achilles, Ajax,
and Ulysses are named in jfineas (918-920), while only
Achilles appears in the corresponding passage of the Aeneid
(n, 29). Pallas's mother survives him in the French poem
(]2neas, 6259-6374). In the epic she is already dead (Aeneid^
xi, 159). In fineas (7000-7006) Orsilochus kills Larina.
In the Aeneid (xi, 690-698) he is killed by Camilla. Other
divergences may be found in the comparison of the contents
of the two poems made by the editor of fineas in his
Introduction.1

Beside these arbitrary changes of details fineas makes
additions to the material of the Aeneid. The romantic epi-
sode of Lavinia and Aeneas, which covers more than fourteen
hundred lines of the mediaeval poem (fineas, 7857-9274), is
not satisfied with simply following the outline of events as
given by Virgil. It introduces new ones.2 The account of
a camp built by Aeneas before Laurentium (Hhieas, 7257-
7364) is wholly independent of the Latin text. These- are
inventions which belong to the province of an author, not a
translator. Of a different texture, but leading in the same
direction of conscious authorship, are certain passages of
Ulneas which offend us by their coarseness. They can hardly
be explained if we admit that the mediaeval poet is adapting
Virgil to an audience composed entirely, or partly, of women,
for whom tales of romantic adventure were usually rimed.
The jokes made by the Trojans to one another over Camilla's
sex in the Aeneid (xi, 734-740) are elaborated in fineas, and

1Pp. xxxvii-lxii. See also Constans in Petit de Julleville : Hist, de la
Langue et de la Lit.fr., i, 223.

* The arrow incident of this episode, much better told in the heroic epic
of Girbert de Meiz (Zeit. Jiir neufr. Sp. und Lit., xix (Abh.) 296-304),
furnishes an argument against the inventiveness of the translator. Was
this episode first narrated in a Latin prose Aeneid and borrowed from it by
the author of Girbert f

384 F. M. WARREN.

turned into a repartee in which Camilla herself indulges
(7076-7125). And not satisfied with this unseemliness, an
entirely new detail of unusual vulgarity is placed in the
mouth of the queen (Eneas, 8565-8612), to be improved
upon later by Lavinia, a supposed ingenue, herself (9130-
9170). Would such an impropriety not suggest a Latin
text back of our poem, a text written for monks only, in
which the opportunity had been taken to enlarge on a vice
of the cloisters?

We also find in Eneas many allusions to ancient mythology
which suggest a mind much more erudite than one belonging
to a mediaeval versifier. The editor of the poem has verified
a number of these allusions.1 Gaston Paris has indicated
in a review the source of others.2 A few still remain
unnoticed. The reference to Tantalus (Eneas, 2747-2752)
coincides with Hyginus's statement (Fabulae, no. 82). The
death of Prothesilaus at Hector's hands (Eneas, 4270-4274)
may have also been suggested by Hyginus (Fabulae, no. 103).
Lavinia's opinion of Ganymede's relations with Jupiter may
be traced to Ovid (Met., x, 155-156). The source of the
Judgment of Paris (Eneas, 101-183) is- uncertain. It differs
from Hyginus's version (Fabulae, no. 92) in the bribe offered
by Minerva, in this particular repeating classical tradition.
Another allusion of obscure origin refers to Tityus's assault
on Diana (Eneas, 2737-2746), instead of Latpna, as the
ancient myth reads. The Greek Scholia to Apollonius of
Khodes says indeed that Euphorion affirms it was Artemis.3
But there seems no way of tracing the connection from the
Greek commentator to the French rimer, if indeed " Diana "
is not merely a slip of the pen.

The general impression gained by combining these various
characteristics of Thebes and Eneas is that they are modeled
not on the epics of Statius and Virgil, but on Latin romances

1 Op. cit., Ixiii-lxix. * Romania, xxi, 285-286.

*ApoUonii Argonautica, etc. R. Merkel and H. Keil. Leipzig, 1854.
Page 314, lines 19, 20.

ON THE LATIN SOURCES OF THEBES AND ENEAS. 385

based on those poems. These romances would be in prose,
like the Dares, the Dictys, and the stories concerning Alexander
the Great. Into the outline borrowed from the Thebaid and
the Aeneid they would insert episodes of love and combat,
and would embellish the whole narrative with passages of
classical learning. These narratives when turned into the
vernacular would receive descriptions suited to the taste of
the public.

Now the supposed Latin romances would circulate, of
course, only among the educated, those who could read
Latin ; in other words, in the schools and monasteries, and in
the world of clerks. The time of their favor could be con-
jectured with perhaps as much plausibility as their existence.
If we may draw any inferences from the appearance of the
French translations, and the presence of Latin compositions
something like the latter in spirit, we should fix upon the
first half of the twelfth century. Indeed the earliest text at
hand which presents the mediaeval conception of society —
the mingling of sexes at the court of some monarch — and the
modern idea of chivalrous adventure is Geoffrey of Mon-
mouth's Historia Britonum, which belongs to the third decade
of the century.1 Men and women seem to have met together
in festivals held among the Celts, and the Arthurian stories
may have started the notion, so fruitful in its consequences.
Yet it is doubtful whether Geoffrey's work would have sur-
vived its translations had it confined itself to the Arthurian
tradition alone. It may have been the chronicle, the serious
part of the Historia, which saved it to posterity in its first
form. At all events the supposed antecedents of Thtibes and
fhieas possessed no such claim to existence. They could not
have been chronicles in any sense of the word. They simply
repeated the leading events of the great Latin epics. Their

lrThe Pseudo-Turpin which narrates the exploits of the peers of Charle-
magne as though they were actual deeds, is another indication of the
romancing tendency of the times. It belongs to the first years of the
twelfth century.

386 F. M. WARREN.

other elements were obviously fictitious. Whether as para-
phrases of the Thebaid and the Aeneid, or as tales of romantic
love and adventure they would have no lasting hold on the
educated public, and could disappear when once given their
proper form in the vernacular.

Furthermore, whether Th&bes and fineas have emerged
from a previous state of existence as Latin romances or not, it
is certain that shortly before their appearance the mediaeval
world was bestowing unusual attention on the more romantic
narratives handed down to it by antiquity. The legends
concerning Alexander, expanded from Latin originals still
extant, had made their way into the modern tongues as early
as the first third of the twelfth century. The Roman de
Troie is a proof of the interest taken in the stories of Dares
and Dictys. We also know that this epoch saw a general
revival of Latin learning. The conquests of Sicily and
England by the Normans, and the growing enthusiasm which
culminated in the Crusades were a part of the same life
which developed the great monastic schools of Bee, Chart res,
and Tours, which dominated the very region where Thebes,
Troie, and fineas were written. The spirit of adventure, rife
with both clergy and laymen, and the new conception of the
relations of man towards woman, which were spreading
among the nobility, impressed themselves on reviving litera-
ture. In an endeavor to reflect the thought of the age and
to bear witness to its sympathy with it, the erudition of the
monasteries consented to repeat in a popular form and in a
style suited to the prospective public the great imaginative
works of antiquity. In lieu of the Iliad itself the colorless
account of a Dares would be vivified with a new life, and
would furnish perhaps a model of romantic prose for a
modified Thebaid or Aeneid. Vernacular renderings of the
Latin texts would soon follow.1

1 In the case of Thebes see the remarks of the translator on page 377,
note 2.

ON THE LATIN SOURCES OF THEBES AND ENEAS. 387

If we accept this theorizing as good reasoning, then it is
to the Latinists of the Middle Ages that we owe the first
literary embodiment of the mediaeval idea, the spirit of
chivalry — a view supported by Geoffrey's Historia Jtritonum.
And should this inference prove false, it is at least probable
that we are indebted to the interest in this Latin renaissance
of the eleventh and twelfth centuries for the first notions of
style in the vernacular. For the Roman de Thdbes, the ear-
liest in date of the poems we have been considering, whether
worked over from the Thebaid or translated from a prose
romance, is the first work in French which reveals an author
who is conscious of his vehicle of expression. It is the first
representative of the idea of style in the history of French
literature.1

F. M. WARREN.

*A study of the style of ThZbes would support the opinion that its direct
model was not the Thebaid. Neither the figures of speech nor the locu-
tions employed by Statius reappear in the French poem. Its author looks
to nature for his similes and has a fondness for proverbs. His verse rarely
allows overflow, so frequent in the Latin epic.

XI.— THE PROLOGUE OF THE WIFE OF
BATH'S TALE.1

Chaucer's prologues and connecting links in the Canterbury
Tales deserve special study, for they are by far the most
characteristic and original part of his writings. When tell-
ing his tales he seems to feel himself in a measure bound to
reproduce the stories as he finds them. In the general
Prologue, 11. 731-736, he says :

" Wbo-so shal telle a tale after a man,
He moot reherce, as ny as ever he can,
Everich a word, if it be in his charge,
Al speke he never so rudeliche and large ;
Or elles he moot telle his tale untrewe,
Or feyne thing, or finde wordes newe."

And though he may be partly jesting, as he so commonly is,
there is more than a grain of truth in what he says. But
in the prologues he is under no such compulsion and can
give free rein to his fancy. In them., therefore, we find,
perhaps more than anywhere else, the true Chaucer, working
in. his own way, and controlling his sources instead of being
partly controlled by them.

Of his prologues three are preeminent in length and
originality. These are the Canon's Yeoman's Prologue, the
Pardoner's Prologue, and the Wife of Bath's Prologue. The
two latter are alike in that they are, in a sense, confessions —
a popular mediaeval type, by the way — and relate personal

JI need scarcely remark that this paper does not profess to give a
systematic account of Chaucer's sources for this Prologue, but rather to
call attention to some matters that have, perhaps, not been sufficiently
emphasized.

388

389

experiences. In effect, then, these two prologues are tales,1
in which the narrator plays a leading part.

Of all the prologues the most notable for wit and origi-
nality is the Prologue of the Wife of Bath's Tale. Nothing
exactly like it had been seen before in English literature, and
nothing exactly like it has been seen since. Of course the
modernizations do not count. It contains (inclusive of the
words between the Summoner and the Friar) 856 lines, or
only four less than the general Prologue itself. Chaucer half
apologizes for the length of it by making the Friar say, 1. 831 :

" This is a long preamble of a tale."

Yet, despite the length, there is no waste material in it.
Nothing clogs the movement, but every word adds its own
touch to the whole effect. It is safe to say that Chaucer
wrote nothing with more zest than this Prologue. Twice he
refers to the Wife of Bath in other poems — the Merchant's
Tale, 1. 441, and Lenvoy de Chaucer a Bukton, 1. 29. In
the Prologue of the Legend of Good Women, A. 280-284, he
mentions several of the authors afterwards directly used in
the composition of this Prologue. With no great exaggera-
tion we may say, then, that Chaucer had been all his life
unconsciously preparing the Wife of Bath's Prologue, and
when he did set it down in writing he gave it a freshness
and spontaneity equalled in few of his other poems. In it
he shows how far he has moved away from the spirit of the
earlier part of the Roman de la Rose, with its attenuated senti-
mentality and over-wrought allegory, and how thoroughly he
has absorbed the spirit of the later part of the Romant de la
Rose, — the part added by Jean de Meung. Chaucer can still
be delicate and pathetic, but there is no false note in his
sentiment. His work is no longer merely imitative and
conventional, but creative and realistic : it is an early account
of the taming of a shrew.

lrThe Canon's Yeoman's Tale is also a confession — the only one of the
Tales proper that falls into this form.

390 WILLIAM E. MEAD.

II.

The women of Chaucer's earlier poems, with the single
exception of Criseyde, are such as meet us in the French
romances, in saints' lives, in stained glass windows. They
are pale, bloodless shadows when put beside the Wife of
Bath. They have too often that flawless perfection which
is only too seldom attained in this earthly life. Chaucer
certainly never saw one of them. The Wife of Bath brought
him back to earth, for she was of the earth earthy, and she
was proud of it.

Of all Chaucer's characters she is one of the freshest and
breeziest, and she has all the brazen assurance of an untamed
shrew. In fact, there is no better portrait of a woman who
finds fault for the mere fun of it. She is the Mrs. Caudle
of the fourteenth century, or, as some one suggests, she is a
Falstaff in petticoats. Perhaps even truer would it be to say
that she is Mrs. Caudle and Falstaff in one. She is not
excessively prudish : no more was Falstaff. She nags her
husbands till she becomes their purgatory ; and so does Mrs.
Caudle. But the Wife of Bath has at once the rollicking
humor of Falstaff and the persistent spite of Mrs. Caudle.
The Wife of Bath belongs to that noisy group of pilgrims
which includes the Summoner, the Reeve, the Miller, and the
host Harry Baily, and she can out-talk them all.

"She was som-del deef, and that was scathe" (Pro/. 446),

says Chaucer, perhaps hinting that if she could have heard
her own tongue she might have been less free of it. Her
talk is very loose and coarse, but her gross wit is really an
essential part of her character. Take that away, and she
would be only a pushing, noisy woman, much like any
commonplace shrew. She presents in her Prologue a new
Ars Amandi from her point of view, and in it she recognizes
frankly, much too frankly indeed for modern taste, that men
and women are human beings and not sublimated shadows

PROLOGUE OF THE WIPE OF BATH5S TALE. 391

such as we find in the hagiologies. Despite her coarseness
she is satisfied with herself and does not care to be apologized
for. There are those, she says :

"That wolde live parfitly ;
And lordinges, by your leve, that am not I." (LI. 111-112.)

She would hardly have understood anything so delicate as
the sentiment of the first part of the Roman de la Hose ; and
in this, I suspect, she is a type of the lower class English
woman of her day. But it is to be noted that she glories
not merely in the grosser aspects of the married relation,
but in the fact that for the majority of her husbands her
word was law.1

III.

Such, then, in briefest outline, are some of the salient
characteristics of the Wife of Bath, which I have noted
for comparison with material which I am about to intro-
duce. So peculiarly alive is she that she almost seems to be
fashioned after a living model, and this may be to some extent
true. Yet closer study shows that in this, as in other cases,
Chaucer borrowed all the hints he could get, and that, as
usual, he turned to the Roman de la Rose. In this particular
instance his indebtedness to the French poem is, I think,
somewhat larger than has been generally recognized. From
this work, as everyone knows, he was constantly taking hints
for complete poems, for motives and situations, and, without
acknowledgment, was transferring, in the good old medieval
fashion, the best lines to his own pages. This fact in general
terms is mentioned by all writers on Chaucer, and by Koeppel,2
Skeat,3 and Lounsbury,4 with specific indication of some pas-
sages thus appropriated. Considerable resemblance, then,
between the portrait of the Wife of Bath and some portrait

1 Cf. 11. 219-223. 'Anglia, xiv, 238-267.

* Works of Chaucer, Notes, etc, passim.

* Studies in Chaucer. See Index.

392 WILLIAM E. MEAD.

in the Roman de la Rose we are Dot unprepared to find. We
are commonly told that the model for this portrait is found
in the figure of La Vielle ; and in general terms this is true.
But along with many resemblances there are many points of
difference ; and these it may not be superfluous to note, since
there is, so far as I am aware, no connected account of them.
Chaucer's portrait is by no means a copy, but rather a com-
posite of many elements.

In the first place, we see that the entire setting is different.
Just before the fragment of the Roman de la Rose by
Guillaume de Lorris ends, we find the first mention of La
Vielle, a morose old woman who is set by Jalousie to guard
the door of the prison where Bel-Acueil is confined. As the
Middle English version puts it :

" [Ther] hath ordeyned lelousye
An olde vekke, for to espye
The maner of his governaunce ;
The whiche devel, in hir enfannce,
,Had lerned [muche] of Loves art,
And of his pleyes took hir part;
She was [expert] in his servyse.
She knew ech wrenche and every gyse
Of love, and every [loveres] wyle,
It was [the] harder her to gyle.
Of Bialacoil she took ay hede,
That ever he liveth in wo and drede.
He kepte him coy and eek privee,
Lest in him she hadde see
Any foly countenaunce,
For she knew al the olde daunce." l

A little more than a hundred lines further on the work of
Guillaume de Lorris ends and that of Jean de Meung begins.
But the essential outlines of the portrait are already sketched,
and will in due time be filled in by the later poet in great
detail. For thousands of lines, however, Jean de Meung
(except for a passing reference, 1. 4718) runs on as though he

1 Romaunt of the Rose, 4285-4300 (Skeat).
Roman de la Rose, 4529-4545 (Michel).

PKOLOGUE OF THE WIFE OF BATH?S TALE. 393

did not know of her existence. In fact, in the rather loose
frame-work of the second part of the Roman de la Rose, she
could remain indefinitely with nothing to do while the dis-
sertations on every imaginable topic drag their slow length
along. On one occasion, indeed, when there is a possible
danger that Bel-Acueil may be freed, she makes a great
outcry (Rom. de la R., 8026, Michel). A little later (8150)
the Friend warns the Lover that he must watch her, for she
is against him :

" La vielle qui Bel-Acuel garde
Serves ausinc : que mal feu larde ! "

But for several thousand lines more she is not mentioned
again, and then only in a word (11,492) when the barons of
the host are proposing to storm the castle and free Bel-Acueil.
At length, however, Male-Bouche, the ever-active enemy of
women, has his tongue cut out by Faulx-Semblant (13,300),
who with a few companions enters the castle where La Vielle
is. They flatter her outrageously and ask her to let Bel-
Acueil descend from the tower for a chat with them. When
her natural fears are quieted she releases Bel-Acueil and
bestows upon him the garland that the Lover has sent.
After some hesitation he accepts it, and she then relates to
him the story of her life (13,681 seq.).
She is a worn-out old woman,1 she says,

" Mon tens jolis est tous ale's. (13,683. )

1A similar sentiment is expressed in Be>anger's poem, Ma Grand?
to which Mr. S. Friedewald has kindly called my attention :

" Ma grand' mere, un soir a sa f£te,
De vin pur ayant bu deux doigts,
Nous disait en branlant la t£te:
Que d'amoureux j'eus autrefois !

Combien je regretfe 'I

Mon bras si dodu •.

Ma jambe bien faite, j ^bis')

Et le temps perdu ! " J

394 WILLIAM E. MEAD.

She will soon need a staff or crutch. Her lost beauty she
regrets, and yet she recalls how her lovers used to flock about
her, and how they would fight with each other outside her
doors. But in those days she was only a young fool and
knew nothing of love. Since then she has grown wise
through experience (13,745), and this she is ready to share
with Bel-Acueil. She would even yet like to get even with
some men who treated her ill ; but in spite of all she is
thrilled when she recalls the gay life she used to lead (13,877),
and the thought of it makes her young once more. She
wanders on with her tale, tells of Love's laws, of his bow
and arrows, and of worthy and unworthy women — Dido,
Phillis, Helen, Medea. She shows how women should
beautify themselves, how they should dress so as to cover
defects, how they should have tears ready for instant use,
how they should behave at table,1 what arts they should
employ to catch men. All men are false, and women should
therefore be free to bestow themselves whenever and wher-
ever they please. All this and more La Vielle expounds at
great length. She might now be rich, she says, but she
finally lost her heart to a ribald who cared nothing for her
and who beat her (15,423), as the Wife of Bath's fifth
husband beat her. The old woman's story ends at 1. 15,492.
What little she has to do and say after this point is of no
importance for our inquiry.

Evidently, then, although Chaucer did not attempt to copy
the portrait of La Vielle as a whole, he took from her the
general suggestion for the outlines of the Wife of Bath. But
he modified the figure of La Vielle by making her younger
and more vigorous, by giving her as keen an interest in life
as she had ever had, by representing her as still ready for

1Some of the best touches in Chaucer's portrait of the Prioress are
taken from this passage. Of. Rom. de la R. (Michel), 14325-14373, and
Prol. 127-135. Tyrwhitt noted the resemblance between these two

matrimony whenever opportunity should offer.1 Further-
more, Chaucer transformed the somewhat morose and broken-
spirited old woman, entirely out of sympathy with life, into
a witty and frisky shrew — good-natured in a way, but still a
shrew. Where did Chaucer pick up the hint for that ? Or,
rather, could he have got any hint for the special part he
makes her play ?

The shrew is no novelty in life or literature, as even
Solomon and Socrates can testify ; and some people, who
read Chaucer's poetry as if it were a series of legal docu-
ments, think that he could have got abundant suggestion at
home. They can cite, too, from his poems a few passages
of a suspicious color. The further fact remains that in
Chaucer's verse we find one of the earliest attempts in an
English poem to utilize the shrew for literary purposes —
other early references to shrews are merely incidental — and
certainly the very earliest attempt to depict such a type as
the Wife of Bath.

A partial explanation of the presence of a shrew among
the Canterbury pilgrims, with her exposition of how wedlock
may be made unendurable, is perhaps found in the fact that
Chaucer may have felt in a sense compelled by the laws of
artistic balance to introduce something as a foil to the long-
suffering wives in the other stories on matrimony,2 and hence
to represent some woman as a scold. The Man of Law has
told his tale of the woes of Constance. Chaucer himself
has told of the patience of Prudence, the wife of Melibeus.
Harry Baily wishes that his wife were of the same meek
type. The Clerk of Oxford is shortly to tell of the patient

1 " Blessed be god that I have wedded fyve !
Welcome the sixte, whan that ever he shal."

(Prol. 44-45.)

This sentiment is apparently not in perfect accord with that of lines 474,
475, but there is no real contradiction.

2 The glaring contrast between the asceticism advocated in the Person's
Tale and the license of this Prologue is sufficiently evident.

396 \\II.I.I.\M K. MI-,.\I>.

(irisildis. r»r:mii<.r :ill lliis misery in mind we tind new
significance in the \Vife of Ualh's opening \vords:

pcricncc

... Ill \ noiii'li to mi-

To Kprkr of \vi. thai is in maria^r. | I'ml. 1 .'{. )

She knew well what tli:i( woe me:inl, for she li:id helped
make it.

The evils of matrimony were, of course, :i favorite theme
in the Middle Ages from patristic limes down. Most of the
clerical diatrihcs against women were seriously meant and
were ill-n:itnred in the laM degree.1 The celihale clergy still
h;td a score to settle with Kve lor her indiscretion in tho
(Jarden, and they tried to Lalanee the account by ahnsinu; her
daughters. - The nnlortunate fact that some women were
not Invulnerable to attack ^ave point to satire that neverthe-
less gradually l>ceame, for the most part, conventional.

Now no one, I think, can feel that Chaucer was paying
off a malicious gnnlge? He was a humorist, and in this
Prologue he took the conise natural to a humorist who
undertakes to handle the theme there di.M'tissed. A serious
account ol' the miseries of wedlock yields us Constance and
(Jrisildis, and depths ol' woe.

In the Middle Ages women were in theory legally inferior
to men, and they were expected to know their place and keep

B in v\oiks not ill-disposrd tin- di-rir.-il I tins :i|.|ir:irs in such j

tin- following:

" r.tv.-msr she ( l-'.vi-) sinned in pr'nlr, In- mcckcil lu-r, s:iyini; : Tlioii sli:ilt
In- innh'r tin- po\\«-r .1! 111:111, :in<l In- sliull have lordship OVIT llirr, Mini In-
sli:ill put lhrr lo ;i 111 id ion. Now is slu- Mil'jcct to M in.-in l>v condition and
drr:id, \vhicli liclorc was hut snhjcrt l>y love." ('ax ton's (,'ulilrn lirtjrnd
(llixt. <>f A<l<nn) (Kllis), i, p. 17-'). (T. also Anrr,-n Hiwlr (»'d. Morton),
pp. -M-54.

•Tlu- WitV ot r.:it!i hrrsrlf calls attention to this tact :

" I-'or tnislcth wcl, it is an iinpossihle
That anv ch-rk \vol sprk«- jjood of \v\ \
r.nt-if it l.i- of holy srynti'H lyvoa."

PROLOGUE OF THE WIFE OF BATH 397

it. Hut nature is now and then too strong for theory; and a

bluff fellow like Harry Baily, who is afraid of nobody

. MUy i>., n his partner, who too evidently leads

•n-uuous life. Chaucer could readily see the artistic

opportunity afforded by reversing the normal order and mak-

.e woman the ruler at a time when her inferiority was

taken for granted. To this day, though the motive has been

<:rn ployed times without number, one can still raise a laugh

with a modern instance.

The; general considerations already adduced are perhaps
' -nt to acquit Chaucer of any very savage purpose in
his occasional thrusts at women and the difficulty of getting
on with them. But his well-known apology in the Prologue
of thf <>f Good Women, 1. 340 seq., makes the whole

matter plain. In his earlier writings, he had followed the
current hostile criticism made popular by the Roman de la
Rose, but in so doing he had been merely practicing an
academic exen as a modern college student might

debate against the side he really believed in. Time-honored
custom has sanctioned in our own day a host of somewhat
inane jests against one's mother-in-law ; and the conventional
fourteenth century satire against women seems in many cases
to have meant little more.

So much, then, for mediaeval shrews in general : now for
the particular shrew of this Prologue. Have we any clue
as to her origin? I incline to think we have. No one
doubts that Chaucer was able to invent such a character
without help, y« t when we remember that he had the entire
Roman il? In Rose at his finger-tip-, when we see how often
and how unexpectedly he turned to it even for single phrases
that he was perfectly capable of inventing for himself,1 we

1 1 venture to call attention to a passage hitherto, I think, unnoticed.

One can hardly doubt that in writing the passage beginning at 1. 534,
where he tells of the eagerness of the Wife of Bath to share with her
friends her husband's secret confidences, Chaucer had in mind the long

398 WILLIAM E. MEAD.

may, I think, hold that likeness of situation is a strong pre-
sumption in favor of the hypothesis of borrowing, and we
may, at least, raise the question whether Chaucer might not
have taken from the French poem the hint for the type of
scolding that the Wife of Bath so delights in.

Now, in the Roman de la Rose, beginning at 1. 9204
(Michel), is a long passage paralleling in a rather remarkable
way the scolding in the Wife of Bath's Prologue. In this
passage we find an account of a jealous husband, who, like
the Wife of Bath, has much to say of the woes of matrimony,
and who, like her, speaks from experience. He takes much
the same attitude toward his wife that the Wife of Bath
adopts toward her husbands, though his temper is more
savage than hers. There is the same suspicious questioning,
the same unreasonable refusal to listen to an explanation.1

passage in the Roman de la Rose, where the process of wheedling secrets
out of the husband is described in detail :

" Et quiconques dit a sa fame
Ses secrez, il en fait sa dame.
Nus horns qui soit de mere ne"s,
S'il n'est yvres ou forsene"s,
Ne doit a fame reveler
Nule riens qui face a ce"ler,
Se d'autrui ne le vuet oi'r.
Miex vaudroit du pai's Mr,
Que dire a fame chose a taire,
Tant soit loial ne de'bonaire ;
Ne j& nul fait secrd ne face,
S'il voit fame venir en place:
Car s'il i a pe"ril de cors,
El le dira, bien le recors,
Combien que longement atende ;
Et se nus riens ne Ten demande,
Le dira-ele vraiement,
Sens estrange amonestement." (17,284-17,301.)

The theme is continued, with illustrations, to 1. 17,643.

Other cases are cited by Koeppel and Skeat.

1 For convenience in making comparisons I cite some of the more im-
portant passages from the Roman de la Rose (Michel), but these should be
studied in their original setting :

PROLOGUE OF THE WIFE OF BATHES TALE. 399

Most important to note is that in this long tirade Jean de
Meung makes use (11. 9310 seq.) of the fragment of the Aureolus

9276. " Comment le Jaloux si reprent

Sa fernme, et dit que trop mesprent
De demener ou joie ou feste,
Et que de ce trop le mole te.

D'autre part n'el puis plus celer,
Entre vous et ce bacheler
Robichonet au vert chapel,
Qui si tost vient a vostre apel,
AveVvous terres & partir ?
Vous ne poe"s de li partir.

9310. Ha ! se Theophrates crdusse,
J& fame espouse'e n'e'usse ;
II ne tient pas horn por sage
Qui fame prent par manage,
Soit bele, ou lede, ou povre, ou riche :
Car il dit, et por voir 1'afiche,
En son noble livre Aure'ole,
Qui bien fait a lire en escole,
Qu'il i a vie trop grevaine,
Plaine de travail et de paine,
Et de contens et de riotes,
Par les orguelz des fames sotes,
Et de dangiers et de reprouches
Que font et dient par lor bouches,
Et de requestes et de plaintes
Que Iruevent par ochoisons maintes :
Si r'a grant paine en eus garder,
Por lor fox voloirs retarder.
Et qui vuet povre fame prendre,
A norrir la 1'estuet entendre,
E a vestir et a chancier ;
Et se tant se cuide essaucier
Qu'il la prengne riche forment,
A soffrir la a grant torment ;
Tant la trneve orguilleuse et fiere,
Et sorcuide*e et bobancie"re,
Que son mari ne prisera

Riens, et par tout desprisera ,

Ses parens et tout son lignage,
Par son outrecuide* langage.

400 WILLIAM E. MEAD.

Liber De Nuptiis of Theophrastus, which is preserved in the
first book of St. Jerome's Epistola Adversus louinianum.

S'ele est bele, tuit i aqueurent,
Tuit la porsivent, tout 1'eneurent,
Tuit i hurtent, tuit i travaillent,
Tuit i luitent, tuit i bataillent,
Tuit a li servir s'estudient,
Tuit li vont entor, tuit la prient,
Tuit i musent, tuit la convoitent,
Si 1'ont en la fin, tant esploitent :
Car tor de toutes pars assise
Envis eschape d'estre prise.

S'el r'est lede, el vuet a tous plaire;
Et comment, porroit nus ce faire
Qu'il gart chose que tuit guerroient,
Ou qui vuet tous ceus qui la voient ?
S'il prent a tout le monde guerre,
II n'a pooir de vivre en terre;
Nus n'es garderoit d'estre prises
For tant qu'el fussent bien requises.

9416. Et cil qui font les mariages,

Si ont trop merveilleus usages,

Et coustume si despareille,

Qu'il me vient a trop grant merveille.

Ne sai dont vient ceste folie,

Fors de rage et de desverie.

Je voi que qui cheval achete,

N'iert jti si fox que riens i mete,

Comment que 1'en 1'ait bien couvert,

Se tout n'el voit a descouvert.

Par tout le regarde et descuevre ;

Mes la fame si bien se cuevre,

Ne ja n'i sera descouverte,

Ne por gaaigne, ne por perte,

Ne por solas, ne por me"sese,

Por ce, sans plus, qu'el ne desplese

Devant qu'ele soit espoused ;

Et quant el voit la chose outre"e,

Lors primes monstre sa malice,

Lors pert s'ele a en li nul vice ;

Lors fait au fol ses meurs sentir,

Que riens n'i vaut le repentir.

Si sai-ge bien certainement,

PKOLOGUE OF THE WIFE OF BATH'S TALE. 401

Chaucer, as has been shown in detail by Woollcombe,1 though
without mention of the Roman de la Rose, used Jerome's Epistle
and this fragment of Theophrastus, translating the Latin almost
literally. Jerome's treatise Chaucer had read rather early,
for he mentions it in the Prologue' of the Legend of Good
Women, 1. 281, and he uses it in several of his poems. But
I suspect that Chaucer's first acquaintance with the railing
accusations that Theophrastus brings against women he got
from the book on which he modeled so much of his earliest
work — the Roman de la Rose. At all events, we find that
though Chaucer almost literally translates Jerome, he had
the Roman de la Rose under his hand at the same time, for
he now and then enlarges upon the original in precisely the
same way that Jean de Meung does in handling the same
material.2 Koeppel points out3 two striking instances, but

Combien qu'el se rnaint sagement,

N'est nus qui marie" se sente,

S'il n'est fox, qui ne s'en repente."

There are of course other passages of the Roman de la Rose (duly cited
by Skeat and Koeppel) that were used by Chaucer in this Prologue, but
for my present purpose they need not be specified.

1 Essays on Chaucer, pp. 295-306 (Chaucer Society).

8 The original passage from Theophrastus, though it is packed with bitter
charges against women, contains no such scolding as fills the greater part
of 11. 245-378 in the Prologue, and is the burden of the tirade in the
Roman de la Rose, but contains only the following complaints which
reappear in part in the Prologue, 235 seq. : —

" Deinde per noctes totas garrulae conquestiones : Ilia ornatior procedit
in publicum : haec honoratur ab omnibus, ego in conuentu foeminarum
misella despicior. Cur aspiciebas uicinam ? Quid cum ancillula loque-
baris? De foro ueniens quid attulisti? Non amicum habere possumus,
non sodalem. Alterius amorem suum odium suspicatur. Si doctissimus
praeceptor in qualibet urbium fuerit, nee uxorem relinquere, nee cum
sarcina ire possumus. Pauperem alere difficile est, diuitem ferre tormen-
tum."— S. Hieron. Opera Omnia, u, 37 (Frankfort, 1684).

Here we have suggestions for curtain-lectures, but not precisely of the
type that the Wife of Bath affects. She throws back at her husband the
things that he has said to her — if she may be believed.

*Anglia, xiv, 254-255.

402 WILLIAM E. MEAD.

without any comment whatever upon the situation in which
they are used, and hence without drawing the conclusion
which I think naturally follows from a comparison of the
scolding in the Prologue1 with the long passage that tells of
the Jealous Husband. Of course the resemblance does not
apply to details beyond a certain point, for the Jealous
Husband wanders off to discuss a variety of matters of which
Chaucer can make no use. The general situation is what
seems to have attracted Chaucer ; and when he has once
grasped the suggestion he enlarges upon it in characteristic
fashion. Hence we may freely admit that he largely trans-
lates Jerome (or Theophrastus) in this passage, and yet hold
that he borrowed the hint for the setting from the Roman
de la Rose.2

Chaucer transfers some of the material in this tirade to his
own verse with little modification, and he can hardly have
avoided seeing how much more effective for his purpose the
practical exemplification of the disagreeable sides of matri-
mony would be if the original setting were changed. To do
this he needed only to reverse the conditions, to turn the
scolding husband into the scolding wife, and to make the
Wife of Bath quote the angry words of the Jealous Husband
to his wife as words that her husband said to her. The
difference is that the shoe is on the other foot : the wife is
her husband's purgatory.3 Such a reversal of the situation

1 Particularly lines 235-378.

2 Note in particular the spiteful repetition of "Thou seist" (entirely
lacking in Theophrastus), by which she makes out her husband to be a
male shrew, as the husband really is in the Roman de la Rose. This is a
very neat device of Chaucer's; for she dextrously puts her husband in the
wrong, and pretends that he is (or has been) scolding her.

3Cf. 1. 489. The conception of wedlock as a purgatorial state was not
invented by Chaucer, as the following lines show :

"Quid dicam breuiter esse coniugium ?
certe uel tartara, uel purgatorium.
Non est in tartara quies aut otium
nee dolor coniugis habet remedium."

Golias de Coniuge non Ducenda, 1 97-200.

PROLOGUE OF THE WIFE OF BATHES TALE. 403

would strongly appeal to Chaucer's peculiar type of humor
and be in entire keeping with his practice on other occasions.
As is well known, he turns the illustrations borrowed from
holy Jerome's impassioned plea for virginity to a use the
saint could never have dreamed of. Other instances will
occur to every student of Chaucer.1

It is worth noting, too, that Chaucer makes the Wife of
Bath glory in doing the very things that the Jealous Husband
charges upon his wife. The French poet merely represents
the husband as saying outrageous things to his innocent wife.
Chaucer represents the Wife of Bath as saying things equally
outrageous and baseless to her husbands, while she gleefully
admits to the listening pilgrims that she put no restrictions
upon herself. With an air of triumph she confesses that
some of the coarsest of the current medieval charges against
women — such for instance as we find in the Latin poem
Golias de Conjuge non Ducenda, 149-164, the lines are not
quotable — are a part of her creed and practice.2 Chaucer
makes her more than bear out the truth of the spiteful lines
in the same poem :

" Est lingua gladius in ore feminse,
qua vir percutitur tanquam a fulmine.
per hanc hilaritas fugit ab homine,
domus subvertitur australi turbine." (165-168.)

Says she,

" They were ful glad whan I spak to hem fayre,
For god it wot, I chidde hem spitously,"

(Prol 222-223.)
"Stiborn I was as is a leonesse,
And of my tonge a verray langleresse." (637-638.)

Chaucer is apparently more good-natured in his general
attitude toward women than Jean de Meung, and with

1 Of. Gen. Prol., 179-181, and Skeat's note showing that Chaucer has
reversed the meaning of the original ; also, Nonne Preestes Tale, E. 4353-
4356, etc.

2 Note especially Prol., 615-626.

404 WILLIAM E. MEAD.

characteristic skill he avoids saying anything directly against
them. Yet he really hits a much harder indirect blow by
letting a typical shrew expose by a process of minute self-
revelation all the weakness of her sex.

In this portrait and in this Prologue Chaucer attained
the perfection of his art, and he immeasurably improved the
materials that he borrowed. Whether his work is altogether
to be commended on other grounds is a question upon which
I do not now enter.

WILLIAM E. MEAD.

XII.— CHAUCER'S FRANKLIN'S TALE.

The Canterbury pilgrims, more fortunate than we, had
heard to the end the Squire's Tale, and were busy exchanging
with one another looks of approval and satisfaction. Now
was the Franklin's opportunity. He determined to be the
one to break the significant silence and become the spokes-
man of the praise of his companions, not only by reason of
his very genuine enjoyment of the narrative just concluded,
but also because of the chance he thus secured to bring
himself into honorable association with the gentles on the

pilgrimage.

' In feith, Squier, thou hast thee wel y-quit,
And gentilly I preise wel thy wit,'
Quod the Frankeleyn.

And, indeed, the Franklin was right : the Squire had
acquitted himself uncommonly well and deserved the praise
the " worthy vavasour " so freely bestowed upon him. This
young chevalier, strong but graceful, high in station but
" lowly" of demeanor, though passionate in love still "servis-
able" to his father, filled the ambitious householder with
unqualified admiration. If only his son were like that of
the Knight. If only he, instead of being a common gambler,
associating by preference with servants and ordinary folk,
would take pattern after this courteous youth, and "lerne
gentilesse aright." Yes, the Franklin certainly had aspira-
tions above the common. He plainly respected the qualities
of manner and disposition that the Squire exhibited, and
longed for the distinction of superior bearing and inherited
dignity. When, then, the host exclaims, " Straw for your
gentillesse," and abruptly calls on him to fulfil his behest
by telling a tale, he responds gladly. Though he is careful

405

406 WILLIAM HENRY SCHOFIELD.

to explain in advance, with a deferential bow to his betters,
that he is only a " burel " man and his speech rude, he is
nevertheless eager to show his acquaintance with stories of
gentle folk, in which he would gladly have his son also take
\ delight.

That his tale was happily chosen from this point of view
will appear later. Let us first strive to get a clear idea of
its source, nature, and mode of composition.

Chaucer says explicitly that the Franklin's Tale is based on
a "Breton lay." But no lay dealing with this subject is
extant, and although the poet's statement has usually been
accepted by scholars as likely to be true, no evidence (except
the vague remark that in general it resembles the lays of
Marie de France) has as yet been offered in confirmation
/ of this view. To be sure, it has been frequently noted that
the story is localized in Brittany and that the names of the
persons mentioned are Breton ; but, on the other hand, so
large a number of Oriental and other parallels to part of the
tale have been pointed out, that the impression is almost
inevitably left upon the student that if ever embodied in a
lay called Breton, it was not by virtue of its origin, and that
there could have been little that was Breton about it except
the name and perhaps the style of presentation. Further
study shows him that the poem is so obviously different in
tone and spirit in different parts that it cannot all come
\originally from one source. If we can discover, then, the
nature of its foundation, and the quarries from which the
stones of the substructure have been obtained, we shall have
solved a puzzling problem.

A careful analysis of the Franklin's Tale reveals the fact
that at bottom it is a simple story of an unusually happy
marriage between the British lord Arveragus and his beauti-
ful wife Dorigen. She, we learn, was " oon the faireste under
sonne," and of a very high kindred. With her husband she
lived for a time after their marriage in great prosperity " a
ful blisful lyf ; " but he, being a " man of arrnes," soon felt

CHAUCER'S FKANKLIN'S TALE. 407

called upon to leave her, to carry on war in England. Dur-
ing his absence she pined constantly for him, as was indeed
not unnatural, for Chaucer tells us that she loved her
husband "as hir hertes lyf/Mand that he also on his side
loved her " as his owene hertes lyf."

The difficulty of her lonely position was, however, increased
by the fact that while Arveragus was away she had to resist
the importunate wooing of a passionate lover, whom she could
only dismiss, without unnecessary offence, by promising to
grant him her love, on condition that he performed a seem-
ingly impossible task. But this matter affected her, in reality,
so little that she did not think it worth while to tell her

husband.

Nothing list him to been imaginatyf

If any wight had spoke, whyl he was owte,

To hire of love ; he hadde of it no doute,

He noght entendeth to no swich matere,

But daunceth, justeth, maketh hir good chere. (366 ff. )

Nothing mars their exceedingly happy life together until
one day the wife learns from her sometime lover that he has
performed the task she thought impossible, and that he
awaits the fulfillment of her promise. When she in great
anxiety tells Arveragus of her sad predicament, instead of
reproaching her, " this housbond with glad chere, in freendly
wyse," gave her comfort and counsel. He will not let his
personal feelings interfere with the performance of what she
thinks her duty.

' Ye shul your trouthe holden, by my fay !
For god so wisly have mercy on me,
I hadde wel lever y-stiked for to be,
For verray love which that I to yow have,
But if ye sholde your trouthe kepe and save,
Trouthe is the hyeste thing that man may kepe.' (746 ff.)

1A not uncommon phrase in Middle English poems : — see, e. g., Sir
Orfeo, 11. 121, 175 ; Erl of Tolous (ed. Liidtke), 481-82 ; Twain and Gawaine,
4011; Seven Sages, 270, 2566; Sir Degarre (Abbotsford Club), 21; also
Chaucer's Miller*? Tale, 36, and Manciple's Tale, 36; cf. Zielke, Sir Orfeo,
Breslau, 1880, p. 16.

408 WILLIAM HENKY SCHOFIELD.

His heart is wrung with anguish at the unexpected misfortune
that has befallen her ; but his only request is that she say
nothing of it to others. "As I may best," he says,

' I wol my wo endure,
Ne make no contenance of hevinesse,
That folk of yow may demen harm or gesse.' (756 ff.)

He considerately arranges for her escort to the. garden where
she is to meet her lover, eager that no one else shall know
of her trouble. As for her, she goes simply because he wishes
her to do so. When with a heavy heart she explains the
situation to Aurelius, he is sincerely touched, and thus
addresses her :

' Madame, seyth to your lord Arveragus,
That sith I see his grete gentillesse
To yow, and eek I see wel your distresse,
That him were lever han shame (and that were routhe)
Than ye to me sholde breke thus your trouthe,
I have wel lever ever to suffre wo
Than I departe the love bitwix yow two.

and here I take my leve,
As of the treweste and the beste wyf
That ever yet I knew in al my lyf.' (799 ff. )

Here, then, we have the picture of a supremely happy
marriage, a portrayal of the ideal relations between man and
wife. On the one side, a wife of extraordinary beauty and
high kindred, and on the other, a husband distinguished as
a warrior, with " many worthy men " to follow him — both
\ willing to sacrifice themselves for their honorable love. No
wonder we read :

Arveragus and Dorigene his wyf

In sovereyn blisse leden forth hir lyf.

Never eft ne was ther angre hem bitwene ;

He cherisseth hir as though she were a quene;

And she was to him trewe for evermore. (823 ff.)

CHAUCER'S FRANKLIN'S TALE. 409

II.

It has not, I believe, been hitherto observed that we have \
evidence in the Historia Regum Britanniae of Geoffrey of
Monmouth, finished in 1136, that this charming story was
current among the Celts at an early period, before the time
of Marie de France and the period of production of the
so-called Breton lays in their metrical French form. In Bk. /
IV, ch. 13-16, Geoffrey gives us a very interesting account
of the life of the ancient British chieftain Arviragus, the son
of Cymbeline, who after his elder brother's death, is said to
have ruled in Britain. Geoffrey informs us that "in war
none was more fierce than he, in peace none more mild, none
more pleasing, or in his presents more magnificent." After
warring successfully against the Roman general Claudius, he
made peace with him and was given Claudius's daughter in
marriage. The historian's chief solicitude is to exalt the
happiness of this supposed marriage. He writes as follows :
" The damsel's name was Genuissa, and so great was her
beauty that it raised the admiration of all that saw her.
After her marriage with the king, she gained so great an
ascendant over his affections, that he in a manner valued
nothing but her alone: insomuch that he was desirous to
have the place honoured where the nuptials were solemnized,
and moved Claudius to build a city [namely, Gloucester]^
upon it, for a monument to posterity of so great and happy
a marriage." ]

No one will question the statement that Geoffrey's narra-
tive of the reign of Arviragus is not authentic history. Bede
and Nennius make no mention of such a person, though they
both deal with the expedition of Claudius to Britain and his
subduing of the Orkneys. In fact, it is practically certain
that Geoffrey here only elaborated a hint he got from a

1 Giles's translation, Six 0. E. Chronicles, p. 151 ; cf. San Marte's edition,
p. 56.

410 WILLIAM HENRY SCHOFIELD.

passage in the fourth satire of Juvenal, which he quotes.

tr o 'A

This satire is directed against Domitian. A big fish having
been sent the Emperor, all the courtiers take the oppor-
tunity to flatter him when they offer suggestions as to what
it foretells. One of them says :

Regem aliquem capies, aut de temone Brittano
Decidet Arviragus.

which indicated that there was some British chieftain called
by the Romans Arviragus, who had made himself trouble-
some to Domitian — quite sufficient justification for Geoffrey
to introduce him into his line of British kings, though he
may have been assisted in so doing by the scholium in a
Juvenal manuscript: "Arviragus Britannorum rex."1 But
a misunderstanding of Juvenal's words led him to put
Arviragus in the wrong place. The satirist, instead of nam-
ing Domitian by name, designated him as "a bald-headed
Nero."2 Geoffrey took this literally,3 and so represented
Arviragus as living in the time of Nero, a generation too

Mayor, Thirteen Satires of Juvenal, 4th ed., 1886, I, 238, who
remarks : " It was in the year 84, the fourth of Domitian, that Agricola
was recalled from Britain, where the work of subjugation remained
unfinished." For references in classical writers to the use of chariots
(esseda) by the Celtic warriors see Ludwig Friedlaender, D. Junii Juvenalis
Satirarum Libri V, Leipzig, 1895, 1, 253, note.

*Calvo Neroni, IV, 38 ; cf. Mayor's note, I, 223 f.

3 1 am indebted to my friend, Dr. R. H. Fletcher, for this suggestion.
It is interesting to observe how Geoffrey's reference to Juvenal was mis-
understood by Robert of Brunne :

Gode kyng he was, we find in boke ;
A boke men calle it Juuenal ;
Of stories it spekes alle ;
At Gloucester it sais he lies,
And the quene, dame Genuys.

Thus the whole of the developed fictitious narrative of Arviragus's life
is definitely attributed to the "stories" in the book called Juvenal. Fable
certainly ever clothes itself anew. Citation of authorities evidently does
not prove acquaintance with them.

CHAUCER'S FRANKLIN'S TALE. 411

soon. Thus it was natural to bring him into connection with
Claudius, whose expedition to Britain had taken place just
before (A. D. 43). It was natural also to make him the son
of Cymbeline, who held sway in Britain at that time. It was
natural further, in the light of Juvenal's reference, to say
that " his fame spread over all Europe, and he was both
loved and feared by the Romans, and became the subject of
their discourse more than any king in his time."

But what about Geoffrey's account of the marriage of
Arviragus with the daughter of Claudius ? This, of course, is
not historical. Even Holinshed went out of his way to
warn his readers from belief in such a fabrication, writing
thus prudently :

" But Suetonius maie seeme to reprove this part of the
British historic, which in the life of Claudius witnesseth, that
he had by three wives only three daughters, that is to say,
Claudia, Anton ia, and Octauia : and further, that reputing
Claudia not to be his, caused her to be cast downe at the dore
of his wife Herculanilla, whom he had forsaken by waie of
diuorcement : and that he bestowed his daughter Antonia
first on C. Pompeius Magnus, and after on Faustus Silla,
verie noble yong gentlemen ; and Octauia he matched with
Nero his wiues son. Whereby it should appeere, that this
supposed marriage betwixt Aruiragus and the daughter of
Claudius is but a feined tale." l

1 Holinshed adds these interesting remarks (Bk. iv, ch. 3) :
"And heere to speeke my fansie also what I thinke of this Aruiragus,
and other kings (whome Galfrid and such as have followed him do register
in order, to succeed one after another). I will not denie but such persons
there were, and the same happilie bearing verie great rule in the land,
but that they reigned as absolute kings over the whole, or that they
succeeded one after another in manner as it is auourhed by the same
writers, it seemeth most unlike to be true : for rather it maie be gessed by
that, which as well Gjldas as the old approved Eomaue writers haue
written that diuerse of these kings liued about one time, or in times
greatlie differing from those times which in our writers we find noted.
As for example, Juuenal ruaketh this Aruiragus of whom we now intreat,
to reign about Domitians time. For my part, therefore, sith this order

412 WILLIAM HENRY SCHOFIELD.

"A feined tale" it certainly is, if by that is meant that
Geoffrey had no historical foundation for his assertions, but
not if it is further implied that he had no foundation of any
kind for what he says, the account being not simply a new
combination but a wholly original fabric of his imagination.
On the contrary, Geoffrey would not, I feel confident, have
singled out this particular chieftain as the only one whose
happy marriage deserved special mention, had he not had in
mind some traditional story of a hero with the same name
in which this fact was made especially prominent.1

That in this place Geoffrey should work current tradition
into his narrative, is not in the least surprising to any one
familiar with his methods. He was, we know, a shrewd
fabricator, who, in his effort to enliven the dull pages of
chronicle history, drew material boldly from current fables,
and pictured historical characters in colors too dazzlingly vivid
to be true, though all the while protesting that what he wrote
was an authentic record of actual events. By the splendor
of his rhetoric, however, he dulled the vision of most of his

of the British kinglie succession in this place is more easie to be flatlie
denied and utterlie reproved, than either wiselie defended or trulie
amended, I will referre the reforming therof unto those that haue perhaps
scene more than I have, or more deepelie considered the thing, to trie out
an undoubted truth : in the meane time I have thought good, both to
shew what I find in our histories, and likewise in forren writers, to the
which we think (namelie in this behalfe, whilest the Romans gouerned
there) we maie safelie giue most credit, do we otherwise neuer so much
content ourselves with other vaine and fond conceits."

1 It was a regular thing for Latin writers to utilize popular songs and
stories in their accounts of historical personages. Compare, for example,
the way in which Geoffrey's contemporary, William of Malmesbury, wrote
(ca. 1142) of Gunhild, daughter of Cnut the Great, who married King
Henry, afterwards the Emperor Henry III, in 1036. The particular
ballad used by William is moreover of especial interest to us in this con-
nection because it is closely allied to the " Breton lay " of The Erl of Tolous
(only preserved in English) which is strikingly like the Franklin's Tale in
fundamental theme (see below, p. 437). On the Gunhild story in romantic
literature see Child, Eng. and Scottish Pop. Ballads, n, 37 ff., "Sir Aldingar."
This story was also attached to Matilda, daughter of Henry I of England.

CHAUCER'S FRANKLIN'S TALE. 413

contemporaries, and by his calm assurance confounded their
incredulity. Both British and Normans wished to believe
his statements and they therefore found it easy to lull their
suspicions to rest. His " history," bewildering though it was,
was accepted as trustworthy, and his stupendous fabrications
were read with delight. " Had I space I could point out that
much of the Arthurian saga in Geoffrey was concocted, even
as his life of Arviragus, by the bold transformation of simple
popular tales, which, when dignified by his high-sounding
phrases, were credited as real historical events. In his
chapters on Arthur he carried his unblushing effrontery
farthest, and with infinite sang-froid decked out our ancient
British hero, the dux bellorum of a rude epoch, in the gorgeous
habiliments of an Anglo-Norman king. No one nowadays
feels inclined to reproach him on this account. We have
gained too much by the impulse he gave Arthurian fiction.
But our gratitude to him for his work need not blind us to
his methods. In the problem before us an understanding
of his regular mode of procedure is necessary if we are to
arrive at the truth.

The truth then is, I believe, that Geoffrey knew a story
of Arviragns and his wife Dorigen, which portrayed them
as exceedingly happy in marriage. Their union was one of
perfect accord, and though their love was put to the test, it
suffered no break, but was rather increased by the strain.
Thus, Chaucer's tale, in helping us to an explanation of
Geoffrey's account, receives an external confirmation of its
own claim to antiquity. Inasmuch as in Geoffrey's time
there was clearly current in Britain, or Armorica, a story
which exalted the happy marriage of Arviragus, it is most
probable that it was that very Celtic story which formed the
ultimate basis of the Franklin's Tale.1

1 With Chaucer's lines quoted above (p. 408), it is not without interest to
compare the following from Lagamon :

>is lond heold Arviragus
& Genuis his quene,

414 WILLIAM HENRY SCHOFIELD.

It may be wise to say here that the situation cannot
well be the reverse of what I have said : Geoffrey's brief
statements about Arviragus and his wife cannot reasonably be
regarded as the source or foundation of this Breton tale. In
the first place, they are too summary and general to form the
basis of any narrative such as the one before us; and, in
the second, none of Geoffrey's peculiar combinations (such as
his connecting Arviragus with Claudius and the founding of
Gloucester) are even vaguely alluded to in the poem, nor is
there in it a single detail that points particularly to his
•^history. The Breton tale of Arviragus was, it appears, quite
independent of Geoffrey. It was, I repeat, almost certainly
from some version of it that the historical romancer got the
^suggestions for the life of his British king of the same name.
In this Celtic tale, there is no reason to doubt that the
wife's name, if she had any, was Dorigen, in older form
Dorguen, or Droguen (the name, it may be observed, of the
wife of Alain I), though of course there is no certainty to be
attained in such a case. Genuissa, the name given her by
Geoffrey, is clearly a free Latinization of the Celtic name she
originally bore, or a fanciful appellation. Roberts says l that
the name is "the Welsh reading" of Venusia, and I suppose
one might think that the rhetorical Geoffrey fashioned it
from some form with Gen, or Gwen, as one element because
of the suggestion it contained of the beautiful goddess of love.2

>e wifmon wel idone.

>a isseh >isses ledes king

J?at him ne derede naming.

)>us he wunede here

mid blisse twenti 3ere. (9653 ff.)

'Arviragus and his queen Genuis, the very fair woman, held this land.
Then the king of this people saw that nothing troubled him. Thus he
dwelt here with bliss twenty years.'

In the life of Arviragus the English historian, as usual, greatly expands
Wace, his original, (chaps, xn-xvi occupy about 800 lines, 9186 ff.) but
here without adding anything really significant.

1 Chron. of the Kings of Britain, London, 1811, p. 86, n. 2.

2 Dorigen's lover is called in Chaucer a " servant of Venus."

CHAUCER'S FKANKLIN'S TALE. 415

But I would hazard what seems to me a much more likely
guess. Geoffrey tells us that the city of Gloucester1 was
founded u for a monument to posterity of so great and happy
a marriage," and thus definitely associates Arviragus and his
wife with the people of the old kingdom of Gwent, in which
he himself lived. Now the Welsh name of an inhabitant of
Gwent was G(w)enhwyss. May not Geoffrey have simply
given this word the Latin feminine ending -a and coined his
Genuissa,2 thereby making that beautiful and virtuous woman
not only the leading but the representative lady of the king-
dom ? Such a procedure, it should be said, was quite
characteristic of Geoffrey, for anyone who has read his book
must have seen how systematically he accounts by eponym
for the names of the cities, rivers, and districts that he has

1 Geoffrey says that the city Claudius founded was called after him
Kaerglou, that is, Gloucester. In the following sentence, however, he adds
another explanation of the name : " But some say that it derived its name
from Duke Gloius, a son that was born to Claudius there, and to whom,
after the death of Arviragus, fell the kingdom of Dimetia." He doubtless
felt forced to offer this alternative eponymous founder, because of the state-
ment in the Hisloria Britonum ($ 49), at the end of the genealogy of
Vortigern. Guitolion of Gloui is there said to have been one of four
brothers " who built Gloiuda, a great city upon the banks of the river
Severn, and in British is called Cair Gloui, in Saxon Gloucester."

It should be noted that Geoffrey had no more foundation for his state-
ment that this Gloui was a son of Claudius, than for his statements about
the marriage of that emperor's daughter to Arviragus. He would have
asserted dogmatically that Gloucester got its name from Claudius, whom
he chose to represent as his founder, with the assurance that his assertion
could not be disproved (for was he not simply translating Archdeacon
Walter's British book?), had he not been well aware that his contempo-
raries knew of the totally different and much more probable explanation
in Nennius. So he decided to give both, albeit they were inconsistent;
and, to bring them into some sort of harmony, he remarked that if the city
was really called after a Gloui, this person was at any rate "a son that was
born to Claudius there." Alas ! for the genealogy of Vortigern, thus put
to shame. Alas! for historic truth in the hands of a jesting prelate.

'The form Juvenissa (luvenissa) in the abbreviation of Geoffrey by
Ponticus Virunnius (p. 105) is of course a corruption. The Brut Gruffyd
ap Arthur has GennyVes. The Brut Tysilio has no name. See San Marte's
Geoffrey, p. 264.

416 WILLIAM HENRY SCHOFIELD.

occasion to mention. It is particularly interesting in this
connection to compare his remark, near the end of his book
(xn, 19), that the Gualenses (Welshmen) were so called
" either from Gualo their leader, or Guales their queen." If
he could make up a queen Guales to account for the Gualenses
why not a queen Genuissa to account for the Genhwysson ?
Whatever be the case, it is clear that Geoffrey's form of the
wife's name is either transformed or invented, and cannot be
regarded as that of the wife in the original Breton story,
though it may have been suggested by it — and, further, that
it affords us another reason for rejecting the idea that the tale
may have been a development of Geoffrey's meagre hint, else
why should not the heroine bear the name he gave her.

We have found, then, good reasons for believing that there
existed an early Celtic story about Arviragus and Dorigen,
telling of their love-making, marriage, and happy life together.
In order to show the devotion of each to the other, the com-
plete confidence of the husband in his wife's fidelity and her
unwavering loyalty to him, there was probably in this early
story a severe test to which each was subjected, but in which
each showed so high-minded a nature that their love was
only made stronger by having been obliged to undergo an
ordeal of fear. There is every reason to believe, moreover,
that this, their trouble, was due to the wooing of the wife by
an importunate suitor, whom she dismissed, as she thought
finally, though because of her kind-heartedness without un-
necessary offence, by requiring him to achieve a marvel
before he could enjoy her love.

This theme, of establishing an apparently impossible con-
dition as a barrier to a lover's success in winning a lady, it is
important to observe, is paralleled in at least two extant
\ Breton lays. In the lay of Doon,1 a lady, in order to free,
herself from her suitors, established the condition that only
he should win her who succeeded in travelling from Edin-

1 Romania, vin, 61 ff.

CHAUCER'S FRANKLIN'S TALE. 417

burgh to Southampton in one day. In the lay of Dous
Amanz,1 a king, in order to keep his daughter unmarried,
issued an edict that no one should be permitted to marry her
who had not previously carried her in his arms to the top
of a very' high mountain in the neighborhood of his castle.
In both these cases, aid was given the lover by supernatural^
agencies. Doon succeeded in going as fast as the swan could x
fly because he had in his possession the marvellous horse
Bayard.2 In Dous Amanz, the lover travelled at the sugges-
tion of his beloved to Salerno to her aged relative, who gave
him a magic potion by which he might win his suit. In this
latter case, we come near the situation in the Franklin's Tale,
where the lover travels south to Orleans to an old comrade
of his brother who has become wise in magic, and gets from
him the aid he requires to remove the rocks from the
Breton coast.

But not only is this general theme thus twice paralleled in
Breton lays, it should further be noted that the particular
condition imposed on the lover in our tale has also an inter-
esting parallel in Celtic tradition. I refer to the story at the
bottom of Geoffrey's rationalized account (Bk. x, chaps.
10-12) of how the magician Merlin transported the great
rocks from Mt. Killaraus in Ireland to build the celebrated
Giant's Dance at Stonehenge, an 'undertaking so seemingly
impossible of execution that the British king, we read, "burst
into laughter" at the mere suggestion of attempting it.
When, however, he finally urged Merlin to bring it about,
the magician set his agencies to work and soon achieved the
wonder, giving thereby, as Geoffrey words it, "a manifest
proof of the prevalence of art above strength." It is easy /
to see how Geoffrey could have rationalized a story of the

1 Warnke, Lais des Marie de France, pp. 113ff.

* In the oldest Danish version of " Sir Olaf and the Elf," the latter makes
Olaf great offers if he will pledge his troth to her, among other things a
horse that would go to Kome and back in an hour ; see Child, Ballads,
I, 375.

418 WILLIAM HENRY SCHOFIELD.

seeming removal of rocks by magic and used it to explain
the origin of that remarkable monument whose construction
antedates any of our historical records — an ancient landmark
which our forefathers were quite as anxious as we to have
explained, and much more ready to regard as the product of
mysterious forces.

Let me add in this connection a remark which is perhaps
not without significance. The British king I have referred
to, who follows the counsel of his friends and sends a long
distance for the magician to help him in his difficulty — a
difficulty solved by the removal of enormous rocks by magic —
is named Aurelius ; and, as we remember, the Breton knight
in our Tale, who accepts the counsel of his brother and goes a
long distance to get the aid of the magician in removing the
enormous rocks from the Breton coast, is also called Aurelius.
There seems to be connection between these two situations.
I do not think it necessary to postulate a borrowing from, or
even the influence of Geoffrey in the case of Aurelius any
more than in that of Arviragus. Geoffrey's stories of Merlin
are neither historical nor wholly of his own invention, but
rather adapted from popular tradition. In writing the lives
of the two British kings mentioned in our poem, he mani-
festly drew material from popular sources — and the Franklin' 's
Tale in a very unexpected but very interesting manner seems
to establish this important fact.

It may be remarked that in our Tale the removal of the
rocks is only an illusion, while Merlin is represented as
actually transporting the Giant's Dance across the sea. This
circumstance, far from militating against the parallel, rather
serves to strengthen it. Illusion, as is well known, plays a
very large part in Celtic stories. There we find countless
illusory creations and illusory transformations — so that we
may safely assert that this feature of the rock episode is
truly primitive. Even in Geoffrey's rationalized account,
Merlin effects what he does by magic.

CHAUCER'S FHANKLIN'S TALE. 419

If, moreover, we push the comparison of Merlin's exploits
with those of the Breton magician still further, we observe
that all the marvels performed by the latter are closely
paralleled by achievements ascribed to the more celebrated
enchanter of Arthurian romance. With the exhibition he
gives Aurelius of his magic art (461 ff.), we may, for ex-
ample, compare that of Merlin to Vivian (Ninian) in the
forest of Briosque.1 At Merlin's bidding, a beautiful castle
appears before them, filled with knights now carolling and
dancing with their ladies hand in hand, now jousting with
one another on a lovely green. At tne mage's command, they
all disappear as mysteriously as they come. It was, indeed,
no unusual thing for a magician in a Celtic story to reveal to
others splendid scenes where everything was superlative in
excellence (" the gretteste that ever were seyn with ye," 464),
"Marvellous sights" of hunters and jousters in their revel
by a fair river or on a pleasant plain, knights and ladies in
merry dance, or at the festive board, where " hem lakkcd no
vitaille that mighte hem plese" (458). The Celtic fancy
delighted in such visions of an otherworld of perpetual joy.
Castles which appear in all their mysterious glory at the will
of a fairy or magician, and vanish again in the twinkling of
an eye, are a commonplace of Breton romance. Apart, then,
from its value in helping us to establish Chaucer's statement
that his tale was originally told by the .Bretons, the evident

1 Roman de Merlin, ed. Sommer, pp. 222 ff.; English Prose Merlin, ed.
Wheatley (E. E.T.S.), I, 361 ff. (cf. Mead's Introduction, pp. ccxxvif.);
Merlin, Paris, 1528, I, folio 145; P. Paris, Romans de la Table Ronde, n,
174-180. — With Merlin's exhibition of magic, compare that by Guyne-
bans. See Merlin, ed. Sommer, pp. 261 ff.; English Merlin (E. E. T. S.),
I, 361 ff.; Merlin, Paris, 1528, I, folio 168; P. Paris, R. T. R., IT, 196;
Lime d'Artus, P (Zt. f. franz. Sp. u. Lit., xvii, \ 24). Also the illusions
produced by Auberon before Huon, viz. a river created by enchantment
(Huon de Bordeaux, ed. Guessard, Paris, 1860, vv. 3275-3284), a tower with
battlements (id., vv. 3295-3299), a palace with viands prepared therein
(M., vv. 3525-3529; 3592-3605). Cf. further the magic house built by
Merlin (Huth Merlin, I, 149).— See also Tristan, ed. Michel, I, 222; u,
102. I am indebted to Miss Lucy A. Paton for these references.

420 WILLIAM HENRY SCHOFIELD.

likeness between Merlin and his fellow magician may perhaps
be thought to throw additional light on Geoffrey's methods.
It suggests that the Merlin legend is a composite picture,
and that to Merlin have been simply transferred feats previ-
ously performed by other magicians less known to fame.
If this be true, we have an obvious explanation of the fact
that genuine early Welsh tradition nowhere connects with
the historical bard Myrddhin any such performances as those
ascribed to the romantic enchanter Merlin by that arch-com-
biner Geoffrey of Mon mouth.

It is, of course, well known that Eastern magicians are
famous for similar achievements. No one would argue that
stories of illusion are confined to any one country. It is
important to recognize, however, that they were popularly
current among the Celts, and that there is therefore no need
of seeking their immediate source in foreign lands.

In a consideration of the immediate provenience of any
tale the proper names are matters of great importance ; for
they very frequently indicate the district in which the mate-
rial, whatever its ultimate origin may be, took the shape it
assumed in the particular version under discussion. Fortu-
nately, the names in the Franklin's Tale corroborate entirely
the conclusions we have already reached with regard to the
Celtic foundation of the story it embodies. Arviragus is
known nowhere outside of the Tale except as an ancient
British chieftain.1 The name Aurelius was borne by at

aln the ballad of William the Conqueror, "written by Deloney, the
ballading silk-weaver," who died in or before 1600 (Percy Folio MS., ed.
Hales and Furnivall, I, 151 ff.), we read:

To Dover then he tooke the way,

the castle downe for to flinge
which Aueragus had builded there,

the noble Brittaine kinge. (11. 17 ff.)

The building of Dover was usually attributed to Julius Caesar (cf.
Shakspere, Richard II, v, 1, 2} ; but Camden ppeaks of a chart formerly
hung up there which stated that Arviragus afterwards fortified it and shut
up the harbor. Arviragus plays a part in Cymbeline.

421

least two British kings. And Dorigen is plainly Celtic.
The localization is without exception in Great Britain or
Armorica. We read that " nat fer fro Penmark " was the
dwelling of him "that of Kayrud was cleped Arveragus"
(73, 80), and these places are said to have been "in Artnorik,
that called is Britayne" (1). Thence the hero travels to
" Engelond that cleped was eek Briteyne " (82). The ma-
gician, finally, is required to remove all the rocks on the
Breton coast from the Gironde to the Seine. Clearly the
scene of the tale is laid in Brittany, where the name Peninarch
is well known as that of a headland near Quimper in the
Department of Finisterre, a little to the south of Brest.
There can then be no doubt that the Breton lay which
Chaucer says he utilized — and it would require a great deal
of negative proof to make us disbelieve his statement on this
point, for he nowhere else refers a tale to such a source —
took shape in Brittany, like many other poems of the
same kind.

It is likely, however, that the story Geoffrey made use of
(not the French lay) was current in South Wales where the
historian lived. The name Arveragus1 seems to be but
another form of Arverus (Arverius), even as Aureliacus of
Aurelius, Auriacus of Aurius, Aquiniacus of Aquinius, etc.
Now, this name Arverus (Arverius) 2 is fortunately preserved
in a Latin inscription. It occurs only once, but then, it is
important to observe, in the ruins of a building in Gloucester-

lArviragus seems to be composed of a prefix Ar-, a root -vir-, and a
suffix -agus. The suffix appears also as -agos, -acus, -akos. Holder identi-
fies the name (Altceltischer Sprachschatz, Leipzig, 1891, p. 243; cf. pp. 59,
423, 1007) with Biracos, Biragos, Pirakos. According to D'Arbois de
Jubainville, the form Biracos is a derivative of Birus, Birrus (see Revue de
la numismatiquefran$oise, 1860, p. 173, pi. 8, 11 ; 1861, p. 62; 1868, p. 414 ;
cf. Revue Celtique, xi, 156 ff.). Likewise, Arviragus is a derivative of
Annrus (Arvirius).

8 In the genitive, Arveri; see Hiibner, Inscriptiones Britanniae Latinae,
1873, nos. 1236, 1237 (Corpus Inscriptionum Latinarum, vn) = Ephemeris
epigraphica, 7, p. 343, n. 1130 (cited Holder, p. 231).

422 WILLIAM HENRY SCHOFIELD.

shire (Lestercome Bottom, iiear Chedworth). It is therefore
likely that tradition connected an Arverus (Arverius) for
some reason with that locality. There existed in earliest
times, as now, in South Wales (Glamorgan), near the mouth
of the Severn, a town Penmarch ; and we have also indica-
tions of a place "not far from Penrnark" with which Kayrud
may be identified. I refer to the mythical place Kaeroedd
(Caeroeth) in which various people, including Gweir, son of
Gweiroedd, were imprisoned, and which was located at
Gloucester.1 The localization in Brittany may not, then,
have been original. Traditions of "Arveragus of Kayrud "
apparently lingered about Gloucester. There was the place
from which came the name of his dwelling (a name that is
not to be found in Armorica). Near by has been discovered
the Latin inscription bearing his name. It was Geoffrey
from the neighboring town of Monmouth who is the first
witness to the tradition, and he makes the heroine receive her
name from that of the ancient kingdom of Gwent in which
that place was. It is hard therefore to resist the natural
conclusion that some story of the romantic Arveragus (Arve-
rius) was current in Geoffrey's time in South Wales, and that
it was the traditional association of the hero with the region
of Gloucester that made Geoffrey bring the King Arviragus
of Juvenal into special connection with that city. The
love-story of Arveragus (Arverius) had evidently been carried
over sometime earlier to Armorica, where it was again local-
ized, the existence of Penmarch, the headland in Brittany,
serving particularly well to establish it in its new abode.

The form of the story in Brittany was doubtless considera-
bly different from that in South Wales. It was combined
with foreign elements and permeated with a new chivalrous
spirit. It was lengthened and elaborated. But nevertheless
it remained at bottom a tale of the happy marriage of

lSee Rhys, Arthurian Legend, Oxford, 1891, p. 365, note 1 ; cf. Loth, Les
Mabinogion, I, 197, note; n, 293, 294, note 1.

423

Arveragus and his devoted wife, in which was exalted the
principle of inviolable truth.

It may not be out of place here to call attention to the
fact that we have other instances of the double development
of one and the same story. The Breton lay of Lanval is
localized at Kardoil (Carlisle), while its pendant Graelent
is localized in Brittany. Graelent contains new incidents and
discussions of courtly sentiment not in Lanval, which is on
the whole the more primitive form of the story. Moreover,
Graelent also presents the significant situation of a romantic
love-story attached to an ancient king. Gradlon Mor (Grae-
len-Mor) appears to have usurped the place of Lanval because
he was traditionally famous in the . land where the story
circulated. Even so Arviragus may have had attracted to
himself the only extant story about him, simply because of
his traditional renown.1 So far, then, my chief object has

1 Who was the original hero of the story, we cannot say. The Welsh
JBruts, when translating Geoffrey, substitute for Arviragus the name
Gweirydd. This is clearly not a phonetic equivalent of the name it
supplanted; but it may well be the late Welsh form of an earlier
Gwerid(lh), which would correspond to all but the prefix of Arverius.
There may then have been a person of this or similar name of whom the
story was originally told, and it was Geoffrey who perhaps first identified
him (Arverius, Gwerydd) with the chieftain whom Juvenal mentions as
Arviragus. On Geoffrey's authority this became the established form of
the chieftain's name, and it was used afterwards whenever stories were told
ol that prince.

Prof. Rhys, as the result of an ingenious series of conjectures (Arthurian
Legend, pp. 365 ff), suggested that Geoffrey's story of the marriage of
Arviragus with Genuissa is " only another version of the story of Pryderi
marrying a grand-daughter of Gloy w Wallt-lydan," as told in the mabinogi
of Pwyll. Gloyw is evidently what suggested the combination to Prof.
Khys. But he is wrong in asserting that " Geoffrey of Monmouth has
identified a Gloyw with Claudius Caesar." Geoffrey knew from Nennius
(see above, p. 415, n.) that the foundation of Gloucester was attributed to
a Gloui ( Gloyw), but he discarded the notion, and identified this traditional
founder of the place not with Claudius, but with a son of that emperor, a
personage of the historian's own creation, whom he represents as born
there — and all this obviously, not because he had any story of Gloyw in
mind, but merely to avert criticism by providing for the conflicting hypo-

424 WILLIAM HENRY SCHOFIELD.

been to show that the Franklin's Tale is Dot only told of
Celtic people, and localized in Celtic lands, but also closely
connected with Celtic tradition. I have suggested also that
it was first current in South Wales, where Geoffrey of Mon-
mouth became familiar with it, that thence it was carried to
Armorica, and that on the continent it got into the hands
of a French poet who fashioned it in rhyme after the style of
the extant Breton lays. Because in this elaborate form it
contains elements that are not Celtic, does not, as we shall
see, invalidate my contention with regard to its British origin.

thesis. Thus, even if we accept as sure Prof. Rhys's observations that
Arviragus is correctly rendered in Welsh by Gweirydd, and that Gweirydd
is "probably" another form of Gwri, and that Gwri is an occasional name
of Pryderi, it is nevertheless unnecessary to combine this Pryderi with
Arviragus simply because the former married a granddaughter of a certain
Gloyw, while the latter married a sister (fictitious moreover) of another
person of the same name, unless some similarity between the marriage of
Arviragus and Genuissa on the one hand, and Pryderi and Kigva on the
other can be shown to exist.

We should observe in this connection that nearly all of what is peculiar
to Geoffrey in his account of the marriage of Arviragus, the emphasis he
lays on its unusual felicity, the statement that Gloucester was founded as a
monument of it, the explanation that the Gloui after whom Geoffrey
admits it may have been called was a son of Claudius born there, the
remark that Arviragus was feared by the Komans more than any king of
the time, the quotation from Juvenal in support of all this, etc., is not
only not in the most remote manner suggested by the tale of Pryderi, but
is even not to be found in the Welsh Brut attributed to Tysilio (translated
San Marte, in his edition of Geoffrey, 1854, p. 517 f.).

Prof. Rhys's remark, moreover,— "The mythic element still further
betrays itself in his narrative, when it describes Gweirydd helping to bring
Orkney and the other islands into subjection to Gloyw (Claudius) "—is of
little consequence when we remember that Nennius, from whom Geoffrey
borrowed, although he never mentions Arviragus, says of Claudius (§ 21) :
"He next sailed to the Orkneys, which he likewise conquered, and after-
wards rendered tributary."

The following triad (translated by Loth, Les Mabinogion, n, 283) evi-
dently does not antedate Geoffrey : " 122 (Myv. 403. 24). Trois principaux
rois de combat de Pile de Prydein : Caswallawn, fils de Beli ; Ghveirydd, fils
de Cynnelyn Wledig; Caradawc, fils de Bran ab Llyr Llediaith."

CHAUCER'S FKAK KLIN'S TALE. 425

Prof. Skeat is surely not justified in making1 the unqualified
assertion that " The ultimate source of the [Franklin's] Tale
is certainly Eastern/7

III.

We must now pass from this study of what seem to be the
foundations of the Franklin's Tale in early Celtic tradition to
a more minute examination of its phraseology, incidents and
expressions of sentiment, in order, if possible, to discover
what features in the English poem are likely to have belonged
to the Breton lay of Arviragus, Aurelius, and Dorigen, which,
according to Chaucer's explicit statement and inherent proba-
bility, formerly existed.

I have already spoken of the lay of the Two Lovers as
presenting a situation very similar to that in our tale — the
secret love of a knight for a beautiful lady, her willingness
to marry him if one necessary condition be fulfilled, its
impossibility recognized unless magic aid can be secured, the
journey to a wise friend in a southern city, from whom
the necessary assistance is readily obtained — all of which
justifies us in asserting that the two lays embody themes
of the same general class. Let me now bring into com-
parison the passage in each case in which the young knight
is first introduced to us.

El pai's ot un damisel, In Armorik, that called is Britayne,*

fiz a un conte, gent e bel. Ther was a knight that loved and dide

De bien faire pur aveir pris his payne

1 Works of Chaucer, m, 481.

8 Note that the French lay begins in like manner :

Veritez est qu'en Neiistrie,

Que nus apelum Normendie (7-8.)

It was the regular way to begin a Breton lay, after the conventional
short prologue, which is also in Chaucer ; cf. " En Bretaigne jadis maneit"
(Le Fraisne, 3; Yonec, 11); "En Bretaigne maneit uns her" (Bisclavrei,
15); ''En Seiiit Mallo en la cuntree" (Laustic, 7); "En Bretaigne a
Nantes maneit (Chaitivel, 9) ; "En Bretaigne ot un chevalier" (Eliduc, 5).
5

426 WILLIAM HENRY SCHOFIELD.

sur tuz altres s'est entremis. To serve a lady in his beste wyse ;

En la curt le rei conversot, And many a labour, many a greet empryse

asez sovent i surjurnot ; He for his lady wroghte,er she were wonne.

e la fille le rei ama, For she was oon, the faireste under sonne.

e meintes feiz 1'araisuna And eek therto come of so heigh kinrede,

qu'ele s'amur li otriast That wel unnethes dorste this knight, for

e par druerie I'amast. drede,

Pur ceo que pruz fu e curteis Telle her his wo, his peyne, and his dis-

e que mult le preisot li reis, tresse.

li otria sa druerie, But atte laste, she, for his worthinesse,

e cil humblement Pen mercie. .... prively . . fil of his accord

(57 ff.) To take him for hir housbonde and her

lord. (1-14)
She thanked him and with ful greet

humblesse. (25.)

The general likeness between these passages surely indi-
cates that Chaucer had a definite Breton lay before him and
not simply a floating story, or a sophisticated tale like
Boccaccio's on the same subject — and that it was furthermore
very similar in style to the lays of Marie. This is, however,
but one of many parallel passages which go to demonstrate
this fact.

In the Franklin's Tale are two lovers, Arviragus and
Aurelius. It is the innocent love of the former which we
have found paralleled in the lay just mentioned. In the
lay of Equitan, on the other hand, we have an instance of
the love of a Breton lord for a married woman, who had
long known him as a friend of the household and little
suspected 'his passion. Like Aurelius, Equitan, who also
dwelt in Brittany, suffered for a long period because of his
love-longing, before he finally revealed his affection to his
friend's wife.

This lay shows interesting parallels to our tale, not only
in situations, but also in sentiment and general phraseology.
As an instance of the last, I would cite first the opening
lines of this lay to show that Chaucer's words in the pro-
logue to his tale are simply imitated, if not translated, from
the French, every lay having a prologue of this kind.

CHAUCER'S FRANKLIN'S TALE.

427

Mult unt este" noble barun
cil de Bretaigne, li Bretun.
Jadis suleient par pruesce
par curteisie e par noblesce
des aventures que oeient,
ki a plusurs genz aveneient,
faire les lais pur remembrance,
qu'um nes mei'st en ubliance.
Un en firent p'oi' cunter,
ki ne fet mie a ublier.

Thise olde gentil Britons in hir dayes
Of diverse aventures maden layes,
Eymeyed in hir firste Briton tonge ;
Which layes with hir instruments they

songe,

Or elles redden him for hir plesaunce ^
And oon of hem have I in remembraunce
Which I shal seyn with good wil as I can.

But what is chiefly interesting to us now in the lay of
Equitan, is the remarkable similarity it shows to the well-
known discussion of love and the condition of its happy
continuance, at the opening of Chaucer's poem. Observe,
for example, the likeness between the following passages. In
the French, the king is pleading for the love of his seneschal's
wife; in the English, Arveragus for Dorigen's.

' Ma chiere dame, a vus m'otrei !
Ne me tenez mie pur rei,
mes pur vostre hume e vostre ami !
Seiirement vus jur e di
que ieo ferai vostre plaisir.
Ne me laissiez pur vus murir !
Vus seiez dame e ieo servanz,
vus orguilluse e ieo preianz.'

(Eq.,173ffi)

And for to lede more in blisse hir

lyves,
Of his free wil he swoor hir as a

knight,
That never in al his lyf, he, day ne

night,

Ne sholde upon him take no maistrye
Agayn hir wil,ne ky the hir lalousye,
But hir obeye, and folwe hir in al
As any lovere to his lady shal.

(F. T., 17 ff.)

If now we examine the French passage carefully and
consider that if such sentiments are expressed in the lay
of Equitan by Marie de France, they might very well have
been in the lay of Arviragus, whether written by her or by
another poet in the same style, we see at once that there is no
necessity of going, as scholars now do,1 to the Roman de la

1 See Skeat, Works of Chaucer, v, 388 ; cf. Koeppel, " Chauceriana," Anglia,
xiv, 258.

428 WILLIAM HENRY SCHOFIELD.

Rose for the foundation of the sentiment that Chaucer
expresses in the following lines:

Heer may men seen an humble wys accord.

Thus hath she take hir servant and hir lord,

Servant in love, and lord in mariage ;

Than was he bothe in lordshipe and servage ;

Servage ? nay, but in lordshipe above,

Sith be hath bothe his lady and his love;

His lady, certes, and his wyf also,

The which that lawe of love acordeth to. (63 ff.)

Chaucer doubtless had the discussions of the Roman de la
Rose in mind when he was telling his tale; but it is not
necessary to believe that his discussions of love and mastery *
were foisted in by him without any hint in his original.
Surely, if any Breton lay should have arguments of this
nature it was one that was specially intended to exalt a
marriage where husband and wife dwelt together in perfect
sympathy and love.

Atirelius and Equitan resemble each other and act simi-
larly under like conditions. Of the former, we read that he
was " wel biloved, and holden in gret prys (206) ; " of the
latter, that he was "mult de grant pris e mult amez (13-14)."
Each falls deeply in love with the wife of another, and suffers
agonies before he dares reveal his passion. The wife is
completely unconscious of the love she has awakened, and
her husband unsuspicious of his friend's attachment to her.
The lover pleads with the beautiful wife to grant him her
love, else he shall surely die.

Further, in the lay of Lanval, we find an excellent parallel
to the scene in the garden, where the avowal of love takes
place — with the difference, however, that the r6les are re-
versed : it is the lady who seeks the love of the knight. In

lln Eq.t 141 ff., is an interesting passage beginning "Amurz n'estpruz, se
n'est egcds," in which is shown the unwisdom of him who "Vudt amer par
seignune," — with which should be compared the passage in Chaucer
beginning "Love wol nat be constreyned by maistrye" (36 ff.).

CHAUCER'S FRANKLIN'S TALE. 429

one case, Dorigen is in sorrow because of the absence of her
lord ; in the other, Lanval because he is not with his amie.
In both cases, they are Jiie object of the solicitude of their
friends, who are eager to bring back to them their previous
good cheer. Dorigen is induced to join a large gathering
of merry-makers in a garden beside " hir castel faste by the
sea" (119) ; but she holds aloof from the rest.

At-after diner gonne they to daunce,

And singe also, save Dorigen allone,

Which made alwey hir compleint and hir ruone;

For she ne saugh him on the daunce go,

That was hir housbonde and hir love also. (191 ff.)

Aurelius seizes this opportunity to make a confession of his
love ; but Dorigen refuses to accept it, declaring earnestly :

Ne shal I never been untrewe wyf

in word ne werk, as far as I have wyt;

I wol ben his to whom that I am knit. (256 ff.)

Likewise in Lanval, we read that on a certain day a large
gathering of knights

s'erent ale" esbaneier

en un vergier desuz la tur

u la rei'ne ert a surjur. (224-6.)

They urge Lanval specially to join them (" Lanval ameinent
par preiere," 238). When, however, the dance begins :

Lanval s'en vait de 1'altre part

luin des altres. Mult li est tart

que s'amie puisse tenir,

baisier, acoler e sentir ;

1'altrui joie prise petit,

si il nen a le suen delit. (255 ff.)

While the revelry is going on, the queen confesses her love
to him ; but he too refuses to accept it, because, he declares,
she has already a husband to whom she should be faithful.

Ja pur vus ne pur vostre amur

ne mesferai a mun seignur ! (275-6.)

430 WILLIAM HENKY SCHOFIELD.

When Lanval, after this interview, realizes that he has
lost his amie, he bitterly laments his fate. ("A sun ostel
fu revenuz," 335.)

En une chambre fu tuz suls,
pensis esteit e anguissus.
S'amie apele mult sovent
mes ceo ne li valut nient.
II se plaigneit e suspirot,
d'ures en altres se pasmot

c'est merveille qu'il ne s'ocit.

II ne set tant crier ne braire

ne debatre ne sei detraire,

qu'ele en voille merci aveir,

sul tant qu'il la puisse veeir.

A las, cument se cuntendra ! (339-353.)

Aurelius, likewise, after his interview with Dorigen, realizes
the hopelessness of his case. ("Aurelius ful ofte sore syketh "
278). All the company go home

in Joye and in solas,
Save only wrecche Aurelius, alias !
He to his hous is goon with sorweful herte.
He seeth he may nat fro his deeth asterte.
Him semed that he felte his herte colde ;
Up to the hevene his handes he gan holde,
And on his knowes bare he sette him doun,
And in his raving seyde his orisoun
For verray wo out of his wit he brayde.
He niste what he spak, but thus he seyde ;
With pilous herte his pleynt hath he bigonne.

And with that word in swowne he fil adoun

And longe tyme he lay forth in a traunce. (291 ff. )

The brother of Aurelius looks after him " despeyred in this
torment and this thought " (356), and cares for him while he
lies in bed " in languor and in torment furious."

In like manner, when Lanval returns with sorrowful heart
to his dwelling ("En sun lit malade culcha," 309), his friends
care for him.

CHAUCER'S FRANKLIN'S TALE. 431

Li chevalier 1'unt conveie" ;

mult I'unt blasme" e chasteie"

qu'il ne face si grant dolur,

e maldient si fole amur.

Chescun jur 1'aloent veeir,

pur ceo qu'il voleient saveir

u il beiist, u il manjast;

mult dotouent qu'il s'afolast. (409 ff.)

With this may also be compared the attitude of Dorigen's
friends, who try to comfort her in her husband's absence.

She moorneth, waketh, wayleth, fasteth, pleyneth ;

Desyr of his presence hir so distreyneth,

That al this wyde world she sette at noght.

Hir frendes, whiche that knewe hir hevy thoght,

Conforten hir in al that ever they mav ;

They prechen hir, they telle hir night and day,

That causelees she sleeth hirself, alias !

And every confort possible in this cas

They doon to hir with al hir bisinesse,

Al for to make hir leve hir hevinesse. (91 ff.)

In the lay of Arviragus and Dorigen the necessity in a
happy marriage of mutual loyalty on the part of husband
and wife was, it seems, especially emphasized. Strangely
enough, we have in an extant Breton lay Guildeluec and
Guilliadun (commonly called Eliduc) a curious counterpart
to this poem — an example of the unhappiness that results
when loyalty in marriage is shattered by guilty love. In
this the longest and most carefully written of all Marie's
lays, we have striking parallels in phraseology to parts of
our tale ; but I wish here only to dwell on the similarity in
the general situation. In both siories a handsome and dis-
tinguished knight of Brittany is very happily married to a
beautiful woman of high rank. After a while he goes to
England to take service there and carry on warfare. His
faithful wife in both cases

Forrnent demeine grant dolur

al departir de sun seignur

mes il 1'aseiira de sei

qu'il li portera bone fei. (81 ff.)

432 WILLIAM HENRY SCHOFIELD.

In one case, during their separation, the wife is tempted by
a handsome knight, but is loyal to her husband — and so the
two live the rest of their lives in sovereign bliss. In the
other, the husband is tempted by a beautiful lady, and yields
to her seductions, with the result that his wife's happiness is
destroyed and she has to betake herself to an abbey and
become a nun.

We surely need no more evidence from the poems of
Marie de France, which have already served our purpose
sufficiently well. It must now be clear that the Franklin's
Tale, not only in fundamental theme, but also in the accre-
tions of sentiment, not only in general features, but also in
minute detail, shows so great similarity to the extant Breton
lays that there can be no doubt that Chaucer's assertion
regarding the source of his narrative is to be unhesitatingly
\ accepted.1 Even as Marie says of the three characters of
the last lay I have mentioned, Eliduc, Guildeluec, and Guil-
liadun, so we may safely say of the three characters of the
Franklin' 's Tale, Arveragus, Aurelius, and Dorigen : •

De 1'aventure de cez treis
li ancie'n Bretun curteis
firent le lai pur remembrer
qu'um nel de'ust pas oblier.

1 Some one, indeed, after observing its great similarity in particular
passages to parts of several of Marie's lays, might possibly suggest that
this only evinced Chaucer's familiarity with Marie, and that he deliber-
ately put together a new story of which the various parts are simple echoes
of her poems, and for this reason termed a " Breton lay " what was really
his own invention. But such an hypothesis is manifestly untenable. It
not only runs counter to all that we know of Chaucer's methods, but
violates every probability based on other studies in literary history.
Inasmuch, however, as the Breton lay of Arveragus and Dorigen does
show such striking likeness to Marie's lays, it is not impossible that she
was the author of the poem Chaucer had before him ; but on this point
we have no evidence, and such purely conjectural matters are perhaps
hardly worth consideration.

CHAUCER'S FRANKLIN'S TALE. 433

IV.

A serious problem of another kind now demands considera-
tion— a problem of interest and importance because it concerns
the vexed question of the composition of popular tales in
general, and of the lays and "matter of Britain" in particu-
lar. If it is true, one naturally inquires, that Chaucer
actually followed a Breton lay in all the essentials of his
narrative, a Breton lay, moreover, which in large part was
closely connected with Celtic tradition, how does it happen
that there are so many Oriental parallels to part of the story?

Clouston l has shown that a tale of the same general nature
as Chaucer's is found in numerous Eastern versions, the
oldest in Sanskrit, but others in Burmese, Persian, Indo-
Persian, Hebrew, Germano-Jewish, Siberian, and Turkish —
as well as in two Italian versions by the great writers
Boccaccio and Bojardo, and one in modern Gaelic, in a form
which shows close kinship with these above mentioned, but
not with that in English. The existence of so many versions
of the same story may seem to argue against my contention
that Chaucer followed a particular Breton lay, which was
very similar to the Breton lays now extant. But in reality
it is not so. The Franklin's Tale stands in a group alone,
quite apart from all the other stories given by Clouston by
reason particularly of the Celtic elements that I have pointed
out, which are found in it and in no other version. And the
existence in combination with them of features which can lay
no claim to such origin need not disturb us; for Breton lays
were, as scholars are now beginning to recognize, a very
mixed product. There is, indeed, a good deal of misconcep-
tion with regard to this so-called "matter of Britain."
Students unaware of the universality of popular tales and
beliefs, unacquainted with the fact that the majority of
popular themes have been shown to be world wide in their

1 Originals and Analogues of some of Chaucer's Canterbury Tales, No. 16,
pp. 289 ff.

434 WILLIAM HENRY SCHOFIELD.

distribution, unfamiliar, in a word, with the results of the
modern comparative study of folklore, are apt to make
the mistake of demanding of any tale that is claimed as Breton
its exclusive production among the Celts. This is, however,
quite unreasonable. A lay is a Breton lay if it embodies a
tale told in the Breton language in the form such tales
usually had before they were turned into the particular sort
of French poem we know by that name. All our so-called
Breton lays, as is well known, are preserved to us in French,
and have undergone very grave alterations in passing through
the hands of people of unlike temperament, training^ and
tradition. There are, it should be observed, French poems
(e. g. Pyramus and Thisbe, Narcissus) that have absolutely
nothing Breton about them, but still were called lays and
included in collections of "Lais de Bretaigne" simply to
ensure popularity at a time when the lays were in supreme
vogue. There are others (e. g. Orfeo) based on narratives
clearly taken from foreign sources, which yet appear to have
been current among Celtic peoples and, having been stamped
by their peculiar impress, may therefore justly, though to a
limited degree, be called Breton. There are others (e. g.
Fraisne) that embody stories which are genuinely Breton,
although they are used in their fundamental features in all
parts of the world, for they were localized in Celtic lands,
and, what is most important, were regarded by the Bretons
themselves as native. And, finally, there is still another
class preserving stories, like Lanval and Guingamor, which
record traditions or conceptions generally acknowledged by
scholars as particularly Breton, inasmuch as they are the
product of conditions that appear to have existed only on
''Celtic soil. But, I repeat, a lay is a "Breton" lay, whether
it embodies foreign or native material, so long as that material
was popularly current among the Celts and not regarded by
them as essentially different from their other traditions. Now,
we may be confident that the Breton peasants, or warriors for
that matter, did not trouble any more about the origin of the

CHAUCER'S FRANKLIN'S TALE. 435

stories that appealed to them and that they were wont to
narrate than does the ordinary English speaking person
to-day, albeit this is an infinitely more reflective age, about
the origin of the common words which he uses to express
his ideas. Any story was readily accepted if it was to the
popular liking, and it thereupon became an unquestioned
Breton possession. If such a story, thus adopted by them,
and popularly current in their language, was put into lay
form, it was justly called a "Breton lay;" and it was also
entitled to that name after it was re-written in French verse.

Granted, then, that Chaucer's Tale is in part paralleled in
the Orient and elsewhere, his original may still have been
an Old French "lay." Are not the Old French poems
L'Oiselet,Aristote,L'Espervier, all called "lays," though the
stories they embody are of pure Oriental origin ? Inasmuch
as they have little or no intermixture of Celtic elements,
they hardly deserve the epithet "Breton," though it has
sometimes been applied to them ; but thefe is certainly no
reason for withholding it from the Lay of Arviragus, which,
as I have endeavored to show, is evidently based on Celtic
tradition.

The combination of Celtic and foreign material in our
story may possibly have been brought about by the Bretons
themselves. Yet, much more probably we may regard it as
the work of the French redactor of the old Celtic story.
From what source, it may now be asked, did he get the
wherewithal to embellish his tale, and what was his motive
in its transformation ?

In order to answer these questions, however, we must first
decide what relation, if any, the Breton Lay of Arviragus,
Aurelius, and Dorigen bore to the parallel tale which Boc-
caccio has embodied in his novel of Gilberto, Ansaldo, and
Dianora, in the Decameron (x, 5).1 Formerly, most anno-
tators of Chaucer asserted that this was the direct source of

1 Previously told by him in his youthful work Fiiocopo (Bk. v).

436 WILLIAM HENRY SCHOFIEL1X

the Franklin's Tale; but the best critics no longer hold that
view.1 Professor Skeat doubtless expresses the opinion of
most scholars nowadays when he writes : " We may be sure
that Boccaccio and Chaucer drew their versions from very
similar sources, as shown by the introduction of the magician.
At the same time we not only notice how Boccaccio has given
Italian names to his characters, but has even altered the chief
circumstance on which the story depends, by substituting a
flower-garden in January for the removal of the rocks."
Professor Skeat is thus clearly of opinion that Boccaccio had
some version of Chaucer's original before him, which he
deliberately altered in very important features, " in order/7 as
he says, " to render the story more congruous to an Italian
location and scenery." 2

These remarks indicate, I believe, a mistaken idea of the
relation of the Breton lay to the Italian novel. There seems
to me to be no evidence that Boccaccio altered the material
at his disposal in any fundamental feature. That he based
his narrative on a story current in Italy is made probable by
the fact that Bojardo independently records a parallel tale.
Neither of them, apparently, knew even of the existence of a
form of the story in which Arviragus, Aurelius, and Dorigen
were the chief figures, where the events were localized in
Brittany, where the removal of the rocks from the Breton
coast was the condition of the lady's love, and where the
tempted wife was earnestly devoted to a loving husband
who tenderly reciprocated her affection. On the contrary,
Boccaccio's novel must be regarded as quite independent of
the Breton lay. The very obvious agreement between them
is easily explained if we suppose that the French author
of that lay, when he was fashioning the old Celtic story of
Arviragus to accord with the taste of the time, made use
of some accessible version of the Oriental tale, current in the

1 Yet Landau says ( Quellen des Dekameron, 1884, p. 94) : " Chaucer hat
wahrscheinlich auch Boccacio's Novelle benutzt."
» Op. cit., m, 480-81, 484.

CHAUCER'S FRANKLIN'S TALE. 437

West, on which Boccaccio based his novel. In this tale it
was not the devotion to each other of a happily married pair,
that was the chief theme, but rather the discussion of com-
parative generosity on the part of a husband who found that
his wife had made a foolish promise to an ardent suitor, a
lover who renounced his claim to his lady's love when it was
freely accorded him, and a magician who refused all reward
for his services to the lover when he saw that no advantage
had accrued therefrom to his disappointed but magnanimous
associate.

It is therefore in the highest degree probable that in the
French lay for the first time the defter-motive, and all that
it entails, was connected with the Arviragus story. Now for
the first time, it was asked concerning Arviragus, Aurelius,
and the magician : " Whiche was the moste fre, as thynketh
you ? " In the hands of a French courtly poet the primitive
Celtic tale was thus transformed, that it might appeal more
eifectively to readers under the sway of chivalrous conven-
tion, fond of finespun discussions of the theory and practise
of love.

It may seem idle to speculate regarding the original end-
ing of this tale ; for, of course, no positive results can be
obtained. But the inquiry is nevertheless instructive, inas-
much as it seems to throw light on the chief conceptions the
story embodies.

If the Franklin's Tale has any definite moral, it is summed
up in the words of Arviragus : " Trouthe is the hyeste thing
that man may kepe" (751).1 Apparently, however, it was
not Chaucer who introduced this idea. The virtue of keeping
one's plighted troth was no doubt already emphasized in the
Breton lay he had before him. It is interesting to observe
that it appears prominently in another Middle English poem
which also claims to be based on a lay of Britain. In The
Erl of Tolous is portrayed a beautiful lady resembling

1 See the last quotation, p. 407, above, and the second, p. 408.

438 WILLIAM HENRY SCHOFIELD.

Dorigen in nature and spirit. Of her husband, the Emperor
of Almayn, we read :

Thys emperour had a wyfe,

The fayrest oon, that evyr bare lyfe,

Of hyr body sche was trew,

As evyr was lady, that men knew. (37 ff.)

The handsome Earl of Tolouse, though the emperor's enemy,
falls desperately in love with her and at last gets one of her
followers to plight his troth to bring him safely to her
presence. This knight, however, divulges the plan to the
empress and traitorously suggests that they seize the favorable
opportunity to rid themselves of a dreaded foe. But the
empress is too highminded to entertain such a thought. She
insists that he " fulfill his covenant7' and even does what
she can to make his task easy.

The lady seyd : ' So mot y goo,

Thy soul ys lost, yf thou do so,

Thy trouth ]>ou schaltfullfyll.'

Y red, \>ou hold thy trouth !
Certys, yf thou hym begyle,
Thy soule ys in gret paryl,

Syn thou hast made hym oth. (280 ff.)

Her faithfulness to her "troth" once plighted1 is also shown
in the fact that she does not betray two knights who in her
husband's absence confess their love (having first obtained
her promise not to disclose their interview) although under
the greatest provocation. Fearing betrayal, they accuse her
of infidelity, and connive so evilly that she is condemned to
die unless some one is able successfully to champion her
cause. The Earl of Tolouse, respecting her purity, comes

luTrue" and "troth" echo throughout the poem. The phrase "To
plight one's troth," occurs in 11. 210, 219, 276, 504, 550, 583 ; " troth," with
another verb, in 282, 294, 635; "true" in 43, 53, 216, 226, 236, 313, 506,
568, 592, 917, 928, 935, 985, 1023, 1037, 3056.— (Ed. Liidtke, Berlin, 1881).

CHAUCER'S FRANKLIN'S TALE.

439

to her rescue. His generous act dispels the Emperor's pre-
vious hostility towards him, and the two warriors become
good friends. After the Emperor's death, the Earl marries
the beautiful lady he has loved so truly, and rules over
the land. V

Fidelity to one's plighted word as an underlying motive
is, indeed, very frequently met with in the early tales of the
Celts. Their heroes made promises rashly and got them-
selves into sore trouble on this account; but they never
denied their word. A knight's promise once given was
regarded as sacred and must be fulfilled, even though it
meant the handing over of his loving wife to another's
embrace.

In the genuine old Mabinogi of Pwyll,1 for example, a
petitioner was rashly promised by the hero whatever boon
he should ask. He thereupon asked for Pwyll's beloved, the
beautiful fay Rhiannon. The petitioner turned out to be her
unsuccessful suitor Gwawl, who by magic had shifted his
shape and thus obtained the promise by deceit. Nevertheless,
Pwyll felt himself bound by his word and yielded Rhiannon
to the man she had refused for his sake. Here also, how-
ever, the affair ended happily. A respite was secured, at the
end of which Gwawl was so placed that he voluntarily
released Pwyll from his covenant, and the hero remained
undisturbed in his love.

In the beautiful Irish story of the Wooing of Etain, at
the latest from the eleventh century, we have a similar
situation. The fairy King Mider, one fine summer's day,
appeared at the court of Eochaid Airem, overlord of Ireland,
saying he had come to play chess with him. First he let the
king win in order to give him confidence. Then the two
made a covenant that the victor in the next game should
name his own prize. Mider won, and at once claimed the
right to embrace and kiss Etain, the king's wife. The king,

TLady Guest's translation, 1849, vol. in; Loth, Les Mabinogion, 1889, i.

440 WILLIAM HENRY SCHOFIELD.

though sorely troubled, did not think of refusing. He only
asked for a postponement. Mider at the time appointed
carried the lady off; but later the king won her back.

We may have an echo of this story in the English lay of
Orfeo,1 of which a French original unquestionably existed.
The harper in disguise made his way to fairyland whither his
wife had been borne. There he pleased the king so much by
his music that the latter bade him make any request he liked
and it should be granted. When he asked for Eurydice, the
king began to object, but was silenced by Orfeo's words :

"O Sir," he seyd, "gentil king,
3ete were it a wele fouler J?ing
To here a lesing of \>'i mou>e,
So, Sir, as 36 seyd nou>e,
What i wold aski, have y schold,
And nedes >ou most H word hold."
J?e king seyd : " Se»en it is so,
Take hir bi >e hond and go.
Of hir ichil Mow be bli>e."»

In Arthurian romance the statement that "a king must
not lie " is of frequent occurrence, and is regularly used to
force him to keep a promise rashly made and unexpectedly
embarrassing in its fulfillment. So, for example, the young
Libeaus Desconus 3 declares that Arthur will let him under-
take the freeing of the lady of Sinadoun or else prove that
he is not " trewe of word ; " and Arthur must needs consent,
despite the indignant protests of the messenger who will none
of the lad. As Renaud de Beaujeu puts it : 4

" Par le covent que tu m'en as,
Te quier le don qjue m'as promis.
Kaison feras, ce m'est avis ;

1 This lay presents the classical story of Orpheus completely transformed.
All the changes made are in the direction of Celtic tradition. See
Kittredge, " Sir Orfeo" Amer. Journal of Philology, vol. vn.

8 Ed. Zielke, 461 ff.

* Libeaus Desconus, ed. Kaluza, 171 ff.

4 Le Bel Inconnu, ed. Hippeau, 214 ff.

CHAUCER'S FRANKLIN'S TALE. 441

Rois es, si ne dois pas mentir
Ne covent a nului faillir."
Ce dit li rois : " Dont i ales,
Puisqu' estes si entalentes."

This idea is phrased forcibly in the late Scottish metrical
romance, Lancelot of the Laik : l

O kingis word shuld be a kingis bonde,
And said It is, a kingis wurd shuld stond ;
O kingis word, among our faderis old,
Al-out more precious and more sur was hold
Than was the oth or seel of any wight ;
O king of trouth suld be the werray lyght,
So treuth and Justice to o king accordyth.

In Gottfried's Tristan 2 we have a very interesting parallel
to the situation in our Tale. Gandln, a noble Irish knight,
who has long loved Ysolde in Ireland, journeys to Cornwall
in the hope of winning her from King Mark. He comes as
a minstrel to the court, but will not play until the king
promises him whatever boon he may ask, After finishing
his lay, he demands the queen and will take nothing else
instead. Rather than be forsworn, Mark finally abandons
his wife, and Gandln leads her, weeping bitterly, to the sea-
shore, where his boat lies ready to conduct her away. By a
skilful ruse, however, Tristan manages to outwit Gandln
and restores Ysolde to her lord. Gandin, sorrowful and
ashamed, makes no further effort to regain her.

Gottfried's account, as is well known, is based on that of the
Anglo Norman poet Thomas, who wrote not far from the middle
of the twelfth century. The episode was doubtless earlier a
separate Breton lay. The story was re-told in the English
Sir Tristremf also based on Thomas's work. The king let
Ysolde go, rather than be called "false." There was no

1 Ed. Skeat, E. E. T. S., 1865, 11. 16736°.

8 Ed. Bechstein, 1869, vv. 13108 ff.; cf. Miss Weston's translation, n, 33 ff.

3 Ed. Kolbing, 1882, 11. 1805ff.

442 WILLIAM HENRY SCHOFIELD.

question of losing what he regarded as his " manhood " even
to keep his wife.1

Malory preserves an echo of the same story 2 in which the
similarity to the Franklin's Tale is even more striking, for
now the queen makes the rash promise without Mark's
knowledge. Sir Palamides meets Isoud alone in the forest
making great moan because of the absence of Brangwaine
who has been carried off. He promises to recover her if she
will grant whatever boon he asks. He does as -he agrees and
later appears before the king and demands the fulfillment of
the lady's promise. "Sir, said Palamides, I promised your
queen Isoud to bring again dame Brangwaiue that she had
lost, upon this covenant, that she should grant me a boon
that I would ask, and without grudging other advisement
she granted me. What say ye, my lady ? said the king. It
is truly as he saith, said the queen, to say the sooth I
promised him his asking for love and joy that I had to see
her. Well madam, said the king, and if ye were hasty to
grant him what boon he would ask, I will well that ye per-
form your promise. Then said Sir Palamides, I will that ye
wit that I will have your queen to lead her and govern her
where as me list." The king does not refuse and Palamides
puts Ysoud on his horse behind him and rides away. Later
Tristrem comes up with Palamides and recovers the queen
alter a hard battle, " for both they fought for love of one

1The abduction of Guinevere is but another variant of this theme.
The version of the story recorded by Hartmann von Aue in his Ywein
is the nearest like the episode in which Tristan figures. Arthur, having
promised an unknown knight (Milianz, Meleagant) an indefinite boon, felt
obliged to give up Guinevere when she was demanded of him. She was,
however, rescued by one of the king's followers specially devoted to her,
here possibly Gawain. — Other more or less divergent accounts of the adven-
ture are given by Chretien, Ulrich von Zatzikhoven, the author of Diu
Krdne, Malory, etc. ; see G. Paris, Rom., xn ; Wend. Foerster, Introd. to
Der Karrenritler ; Weston, Legend of Sir Gawain, pp. 67 ff. ; Legend of Sir
Lancelot du Lac, 46 ff. Naturally, the king should never be the rescuer.

' Bk. vui, ch. 29 ff. Cf. Loseth, Roman en Prose de Tristan, \ 43.

CHAUCER'S FRANKLIN'S TALE. 443

lady." Sir Palamides must renounce his claim to Ysoud
and leave the country.

Thus it appears that the idea of faithfulness in keeping a
promise, no matter what sorrow it occasions, which is funda-
mental in the Franklin's Tale, is also prominent in early
Celtic stories, in Breton lays, and in romances based on the
" matter of Britain." 1 The precise form of the story at
the basis of the Lay of Arviragus, we shall probably never
discover. But one thing is, as we have seen, almost certain :
it had a different ending. The account of Pwyll, Gwawl
and Rhiaunon suggests what may possibly have been the
general features of the original conclusion. Dorigen's troth
once plighted, both she and her husband recognized when the
condition she had established was unexpectedly fulfilled
that the result was inevitable. Arviragus handed his wife
over to Aurelius. But in some way a respite was secured
and before it was ended the lover found himself in such a
position that he voluntarily released Dorigen from her
unhappy promise.

It is probable that the magician is an importation from
the foreign tale. The lovers Gwawl and Gaudin relied on
their own arts to win the lady of whom they were enamoured.
Doubtless it was so in the beginning with Aurelius. The
magician, however, was a very prominent figure in the
Oriental tale, and when its ending was adopted the magician
appears to have been taken along with the rest. The lover
was made over in the likeness of conventional mediaeval
characters of the same sort and the illusions he brought

1 It is even as Sir Walter Scott long since remarked in his edition of
Sir Tristrem (p. 322) :

"Good faith was the very corner-stone of chivalry. Whenever a
knight's word was pledged, it mattered not how rashly, it was to be
redeemed at any price. Hence the sacred obligation of the don octroyee,
or boon granted by a knight to his suppliant. Instances without number
occur in romance, in which a knight, by rashly granting an indefinite boon,
was obliged to do, or suffer, something extremely to his prejudice."

444 WILLIAM HENRY SCHOFIELD.

about were explained as the achievements of another person,
a professional magician, to whom he applied for aid.

There remains but one other matter that invites discussion
in the present study. How has Chaucer altered the Breton
lay he had before him? This question admits of a fairly
satisfactory answer. Although the poet in general seems to
have followed his original closely, there are still certain parts
of the Franklin's Tale which we can affirm with some confi-
dence first became connected with the story in his hands.1
Of these the following may be mentioned: 1, the discussion
of the cause of evil in the world, a propos of the existence of
the dangerous rocks on the Breton coast; 2, the abundant
references to astrology ; 2 3, the " pleynt " of Aurelius to
Apollo, "Lord Phebus" (303-351); and 4, Dorigen's "com-
pleynt " to Fortune, in which she cites " examples " of ladies
who slew themselves rather than be polluted — an unneces-
sarily long digression, of about one hundred lines (627-728)
taken from the treatise of Jerome against Jovinian.

These passages, which comprise about one-fourth of the
whole poem, are clearly additions made by the English
author. The first is interesting to us as perhaps throwing
a sidelight on the poet's personal attitude towards religion
and life. As to the second, we know how fond Chaucer was
of astrological lore, and are not surprised at its insertion
here. Moreover, the passage beginning, " Phebus wex old and
hewed lyk latoun " (517 ff.) is so good that we cannot but feel
grateful for that digression at least, whatever our attitude
may be towards the particulars of the magician's methods.
With regard to the two " complaints," I would only say that
they belong to a very distinct style of lyric love poetry

xSkeat points out also (v, 387 ff.) slight borrowings from Persius,
Dionysius Cato, Ovid, Boethius, and the Roman de la Rose.
8 329-30, 401-406, 426-7, 517-527 ; 542-565.

CHAUCER'S FRANKLIN'S TALE. 445

prevalent in Chaucer's day, and that their introduction in
this poem is conventional. Chaucer could hardly have
helped making his lovers " complain " in this manner, unless
he deliberately avoided the literary customs of his contempo-
raries, with which, on the contrary, he elsewhere shows much
sympathy.

It was thus under the influence of contemporary French
works that he makes Aurelius turn poet and unburden his
distressed soul in verse.

He was dispeyred, nothing dorste he seye,

Save in his songes somwhat wolde he wreye

His wo, as in a general compleyning ;

He seyde he lovede, and was biloved nothing.

Of swich matere made he many layes,

Songes, compleintes, roundels, virelayes. (215 ff.)

Chaucer allows him " two yeer and more " for such amuse-
ment, in which he surely had a decent chance to do himself
justice and analyze all his emotions. Now, if we turn to
Guillaume de Machaut's Livre du Voir-Dit,1 itself a "general
compleyning," we find a person similarly occupied when in a
like condition, though not for quite so long.

On li a dit and raconte'

Qu'un yver and pre"s d'un este"

Avez este" griefment malades :

Et qne, toudis, faisi^s balades,

Eondeaus, mote's et virelais

Com plain tes et amoureus lais. (11. 113 ff. )

Chaucer himself, as is well known, though never, we hope,
in such a pitiable plight as Aurelius, yet tried his hand at
the same sort of composition :

Many an ympne for your halydayes,

That highten Balades, Roundels, Virelayes.2

Indeed, it is perhaps possible to trace the direct influence

1 Ed. Paulin Paris, Paris, 1875, p. 5.
8 Legend of Good Women, 11. 422-23.

446 WILLIAM HENRY SCHOFIELD.

of Machaut in the description of the garden, so like is it to
part of the Dit du Vergier? with which there can be hardly
any doubt that the poet was familiar. The situation in both
cases is very much the same. A lover, afflicted by the
absence of his or her loved-one, enters a beautiful garden one
spring morning in the hope of dismissing sorrow by watch-
ing the revelry of others — but without success ; for thoughts
of the loved-one prevent any real participation in the general
happiness. That neither of the gardens was to blame, is
evident from the following similar descriptions :

De fleurs et de feuilles si bel This garden fill of leves and of floures

Si bel, si gent, si aggre"able And craft of mannes hand so curiously,

Si tres plaisant, si delitable Arrayed hadde this gardin, trewely,

Et plein de si tr£s bonne odour That never was ther gardin of swich
Que nulz n'en auroit la savour prys,

Tout fust ses cuers de"confortez Bot if it were the verray paradys.

Qu'il ne fust tout re'confortez The odour of floures and the fresshe

Et tant estoit de joie plainz sighte

Wolde han maad any herte for to

Ja ne scay que ce pooit estre lighte

Fors que le paradis terrestre. That ever was born, bot if to gret

(p. 12.) siknesse

Or to gret sorwe held it in distresse;

So ful it was of beautee with plesaunce.
(180 ff.) '
/

The Franklin's Tale is not, it is evident, an entirely har-
monious whole. When reading it, we do not really breathe
the pure atmosphere of Breton romance. Sometimes we find
ourselves letting our imagination wander along delightful
paths of illusion ; but the treat does not last long. A shrewd
practical remark of Chaucer's calls ns suddenly back to this
world of common sense. The bubbles of conventional elo-
quence, which we half believed were sound, are pricked by a
sly parenthesis, and we then smile at a lover's rhetoric when
we were before quite disposed to let it engage us as it did
a reader in mediaeval times. Courtly sentiments, it is hinted,

1 G. de Machaut, Oeuvres [ed. Tarbe"], 1849, pp. 11 ff.

CHAUCER'S FRANKLIN'S TALE. 447

struggle with bourgeois experience. Romantic lovemaking,
we are disconcertingly reminded, has a practical aftermath.
Illusions about one's love are apt to disappear.

Who coude telle, but he had wedded be,
The joye, the ese, and the prosperitee
That is bitwixe an housbonde and his wyf ?

Alas ! nobody, Chaucer implies, can tell beforehand, or with-
out personal experience. Men have lordship over their wives
such as it is (15). These "noble wyves",make much ado
about their husbands " when hem lyketh " (90). In a word,
Chaucer's advice to the married is :

Lerneth to suffre, or elles, so most I goon,

Ye shul it lerne, wher-so ye wole or noon. (49-50.)

These sly remarks, most humorous and entertaining though
they are, nevertheless are out of harmony with the spirit of a
Breton lay, where much of the charm consists in the remote-
ness of the scene and situation. We are not accustomed,
moreover, to have lay-writers become personal and laugh at
their own rhetoric, as Chaucer does about the fall of night :

the brighte sonne loste his hewe ;
For thorisonte hath reft the sonne his light ;
This is as muche to seye as it was night. (288 ff.)

His humor throughout is delightful, yet would be judged
sometimes out of place by the critic who simply viewed the
tale as an independent artistic narrative.

But this, I would urge, no one is justified in doing. The
tale before us is but part of a great whole. It is a Franklin,
"Epicurus owne sone," we must remember, who is telling
this Breton lay, and telling it to people very different from
those for whom it was originally intended, as well as under
very remarkable conditions. The Franklin is a dramatic
figure whom Chaucer is eager to bring clearly before us, even
if the illusion of the particular story assigned him be some-
what interfered with by the way in which he could only tell

448 WILLIAM HENRY SCHOFIELD.

it and be himself. And although it may justly be said that,
even so, Chaucer is not entirely above reproach, for he puts
too much learned disquisition into the mouth of this " burel "
man, we cannot but recognize that most of the inconsistencies
in his narrative are the result of his effort to make the situa-
tion dramatic and to keep the reader always conscious of the
circumstances under which the story is being told.

This story, transmitted from the feudal past, the Franklin
knew when he made his choice would interest the young
man beside him, whom he had just been praising and whose
praise he in his turn hoped to gain. In truth, one cannot
fail to observe that the description of the Squire in the
Prologue, "a lovyere and a lusty bachelere," is strikingly
similar to that of the

lusty Squyer, servant to Venus,
Which that ycleped was Aurelius.

Of Chaucer's Squire, we read :

Ernbrouded was he, as it were a mede
Al ful of fresshe flourea, whyte and rede,
Singinge he was, or floytinge al the day.
He was as fresh as is the month of May.

And of the squire who sang and danced before Dorigen :

fressher [he] was and jolyer of array
As to my doom, than is the monthe of May.

It might be said of Aurelius as of him :

He coude songes make and wel endyte

Juste and eek daunce, and wel portreye and write.

He too was " wonderly delivre and greet of strengthe ; " and
that he " loved hot/' certainly Dorigen would attest. Nor
was the obvious similarity between the Squire and the
generous lover in our Tale, due to accident, but rather to
the poet's happy design. To have the Franklin recount this
Breton lay of Arviragus and Dorigen immediately after the

449

Squire had finished his romantic narrative of Canacee, was
the most effective compliment that he had yet paid the noble
youth he so much admired. Nowhere has Chaucer shown more
skill in making a transition from one story to another, or
more wisdom in choosing the teller for a tale. We can only
regret that he found no occasion to record how the Squire,
the worthy Knight, or some other of the Franklin's happy
company, received this charming lay, which, fortunately for
us, he has rescued from the greedy sea of oblivion.

WILLIAM HENRY SCHOFIELD.

Additional note to page

Attention may be called to the fact that in the legend of Mongan, the
Irish hero and enchanter, there is a close parallel to the story of Pwyll.
Mongan has rashly made an indefinite promise to the king of Leinster in
order to obtain some splendid kine. He and his wife Dubh-Lacha of the
White Hand are one day together when the king and his hosts approach.
"'What hast thou come to seek?' said Mongan. 'For, by my word, if
what thou seekest be in the province of Ulster, thou shalt have it.' 'It is,
then,' said the king of Leinster. 'To seek Dubh-Lacha have I come.'
Silence fell upon Mongan. And he said : ' I have never heard of anyone
giving away his wife.' ' Though thou hast not heard of it,' said Dubh-
Lacha, 'give her, for honour is more lasting than life.' Anger seized
Mongan, and he allowed the king of Leinster to take her with him." Here
also the captor is a suitor of the lady, and she pretends to reciprocate his
affection. By establishing a condition to her love, she secures a year's
respite before she shall grant it. In the meantime, she is won back from
the king's power by craft. See Meyer-Nutt, Voyage of Bran, i, 77 ff.; also
I, 49-52. See, further, Nutt's discussion of the age of the material (i,
136 if.), and of the relation of the Mongan to the Arthur legend (n, ch.
xiii). I am indebted to Miss Lucy A. Paton for reminding me of this
important parallel.

W. H. S.

XIIL— A FRIEND OF CHAUCER'S.

In the Hous of Fame, Chaucer mentions amongst harpers
"the Bret Glascurion " (v. 1208). This personage was long
ago identified l with Glasgerion, the hero of a famous ballad ;
and a further identification of Glascurion with the Welsh
bard'Geraint (Y Bardd Glas Keraint) was made in 1845
by the Rev. Thomas Price.2 Professor Child was inclined
to accept these identifications, though he expressed himself
cautiously.

It requires no argument to show that there is nothing
impossible in Chaucer's having heard from a dozen sources
the name of so distinguished a person as this Welsh poet.
One feels, however, a certain interest in finding a particular
Welshman from whom he may perfectly well have got his
information. Such a person was Lewis Johan. And even
if it be held that Lewis Johan has not this importance as
a literary intermediary, he is in any case interesting as a
member of Chaucer's circle of city acquaintance. Much
light may yet be thrown on the poet's life and environment
by the study of just such obscure persons.

Lewis Johan is already known to literary history in a
humble way as the person at whose house the sons of Henry
IV were taking supper when Henry Scogan read them his
moral and poetical address.3 We. might infer from this that

1 By Percy, in the 2d ed. of his Reliques, i, Ivii (1767).

2 See his essay on the Remains of Ancient Literature in the Welsh, etc., pub-
lished in the Literary Remains of the Rev. Thomas Price, 1854, I, 152. The
identification of Glasgerion with the Welsh bard was afterwards made by
Mr. Edward Williams in The Cambrian Journal, Sept., 1858, pp. 192-194
(see Child, Ballads, Part III, p. 137 ; Part IV, p. 571).

8 Our information is based on the title given to the poem by Shirley,
which tells us that the balade in question was addressed to the prince and
his brothers, Clarence, Bedford, and Gloucester, at a supper in the vintry
in London at the house of Lewys Johan. See with regard to this poem
and its author Studies and Notes in Philology and Literature, i, 109 ff.

450

451

Johan was a vintner, like Chaucer's father, and that he kept
a restaurant, a fourteenth -century Sherry's, at which young
men of the highest rank were accustomed to dine. The
inference is in part established as a fact by the records of
Parliament. In the Parliament of 1414, Thomas Chaucer,
Esq., king's butler, Lewis Johan, and Johan Snypston pre-
sented a joint petition for payment of the sum of £868, 14 s.,
3Jd., for wine furnished to the late king, Henry IV. Of
this sum 40 marks was due to Lewis Johan.1

Thomas Chaucer, as is well known, was made chief butler
of England for life by letters patent of Henry IV, dated
Nov. 5, in the fourth year of that king's reign.2

We know further that Lewis Johan was a Freeman of the
city of London in the second year of Henry IV, and that he
was born of a Welsh father and mother. These facts are
ascertained from a petition which he presented to Parliament
in 1414, reciting them, and asking that the provisions of the
statute of 2 Henry IV, providing that no Welshman be
allowed to acquire lands or tenements in England or the
English cities of Wales and that no Welshman be received as
a burgess, etc., may not apply to him. The petition was
granted, which seems to be sufficient evidence of the truth of
the statements made therein.3

In 1414, Henry V granted to Lewis Johan the exclusive
privilege for three years of issuing bills of exchange for
persons wishing to send money to the Roman Curia, the
republic of Venice, or other places where the Pope might be,
or other parts beyond the sea. Lewis was to pay at each
year's end 200 marks and was to be protected in his
monopoly.4 In 1417 Lewis Johan was one of three sureties for
the first payment of the ransom of the Count of Venddme.5

1 Rot. Parl, iv, 37.

'The grant was confirmed in 1422 by Henry VI (Rot. Parl., iv, 178).

3 Statutes of the Realm, n, 129. Passed in Jan., 1401.

4 Patent Rolls, 2 Henry V, p. 2, m. 23, Rymer, ed. Holmes, ix, 130.

5 Proceedings of the Privy Council, ed. Nicolas, ir, 342. The other sureties
were Johan Vyctor and Gerarde Davy, evidently persons in the same rank
of life as Lewis Johan.

452 G. L. KITTREDGE.

In 1422 Lewis Johan appeared before the Lords of the
King's Council at Westminster and asked to be relieved of
the office of Master of the Coinage in the tower of London.1

From all these facts we can easily see what was the life
and the station of Lewis Johan. He was a vintner, appar-
ently well-known at court (like Chaucer's father), and he
acquired sufficient wealth to engage in the business of bank-
ing. That he was personally known to Chaucer it seems
impossible to doubt. It is not likely that any successful
Londoner in Johan's business, and associated as he was with
Scogan, Thomas Chaucer, and the court, should have been
unknown to Geoffrey Chaucer. It would, of course, be an
absurd sattus to jump to the conclusion that the poet must
have heard of " the Bret Glascurion " from this Welsh
acquaintance. We may believe as we list. In any case
Lewis Johan remains an interesting figure, as one of the
burgher and business circle to which Geoffrey Chaucer be-
longed as much as to the court, and with which he had such
a minute and sympathetic acquaintance.

G. L. KITTREDGE.

December, 1900.

1 Proceedings of the Privy Council, n, 318.

XIV.— ENGLISH INFLUENCE UPON SPANISH

LITERATURE IN THE EARLY PART

OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY.

An interesting chapter might be written on the interrela-
tions of Spanish and English literatures in the early part
of the nineteenth century, and it might aid materially in
dispelling the prevalent delusions as to Spanish < aloofness'
in matters of general culture. The present paper, which is
not offered as by any means exhaustive of the subject,
is intended to present in brief outline an account of English
influence upon Spanish literature during the period indicated,
that is, the first forty years of the century.

We may begin the consideration of our subject with the
mention of the important Spanish dramatist who links
the eighteenth to the nineteenth century. This is Leandro
Fernandez de Moratin, the author of El Cafi and El Si de
las Ninas. About the middle of the last decade of the
eighteenth century, Moratin spent a year in London, whither
he had gone as a pensioner of the Spanish government to
study the English stage. The fruits of his studies appeared
in his prose translation of Hamlet, published in 1798. The
translation is mediocre enough, and is marked by the errors
of judgment natural in a writer who could deem Shakspeare
distinctly inferior to Racine, for such is the conclusion at
which Moratin arrived in his critical estimate of the work
with which he dealt.

Though he links the eighteenth and the nineteenth century,
Moratin is, in the main, a figure of the eighteenth century, and
Spanish literature of the nineteenth century begins properly
with the Tyrtaean poet, Manuel Jose Quintana. A fervent
patriot, Quintana was most successful in the lyrics with
which he roused his countrymen against the Napoleonic
invader. In these his manner, strange to say, is entirely

453

454 J. D. M. FOKD.

that brought into vogue by the French precept-makers of the
seventeenth and eighteenth centuries ; he fought the French
with their own weapons. But Quintana was also susceptible
to English influence ; for, in his tragedy El duque de Viseo,
he imitated the Castle Spectre of Mathew Lewis. Quintana's
play is not a masterpiece. The author's temperament was in
no wise dramatic, and then, too, strength could hardly be
expected in an imitation of so feeble a prototype as Lewis's
drama. At all events, the Duque de Viseo affords a point
of contact between English literature and the coterie of poets
in Madrid of whom Quintana was the acknowledged chief
during the first twenty or thirty years of the century.

Similar points of contact are clear in Lista and Blanco,
two members of the school of Seville, that is, of that band
of poets at Seville who, following the lead of Luzdn and
Mele"ndez Valde"s, joined in the attempt to reform the de-
praved literary taste of Spain by subordinating her literary
production to the aesthetic canons established in France by
Boileau. Recognizing in Pope purposes resembling those
of the French lawgiver Boileau, Lista made a free poetical
translation of the Duneiad, in which for the names of the
English authors attacked by Pope he substituted those of
Castilian writers whom he deemed deserving of censure.
But the work was published posthumously and must have
failed to produce any effect during the lifetime of Lista.
Blanco, — or, as we know him in English literature, Blanco
White, — is even more an English writer than a Spanish one.
The melancholy story of his life has been told by Mr.
Gladstone, who has also indicated Blanco's lack of mental
balance. Beginning as one of the most enthusiastic and
forceful of the young ecclesiastical poets of Seville, he had
already gained a reputation in his native land, when, assailed
by religious doubts, he abandoned Spain and went to Eng-
land. There he associated himself in turn with nearly all
the religious communions, finding rest in none. In Blanco,
the Spanish and the English strains seem independent of

ENGLISH INFLUENCE UPON SPANISH LITERATURE. 455

each other, belonging the one to his earlier, the other to
his later life. Famous among his English compositions is
the exquisite sonnet Mysterious light. He did not wholly
cease, however, to write in Spanish after his expatriation.
Only shortly before his death he indited the Spanish poem
El deseo reslgnado (Resigned Desire), one of the best and
most pathetic of his lyrics.

To Shakspeare, Pope, and Lewis, already introduced into
the domain of Spanish letters by Moratin, Lista, and Quin-
taua, we may add Gray, whose famous elegy was imitated by
Jose" Fernandez Guerra in his Cementerio de Aldea.

The relations between the Spanish and English literatures
indicated up to the present had no far-reaching consequences.
They merely evince individual interest in English literature
on the part of prominent Spanish authors. But, with the
coming of the Romantic movement, English influence became
more generally significant in the development of Spanish
letters.

In Spain, the Romantic movement — or, in her case, we
should rather say, the Romantic revival — came somewhat
belated, following in the wake of the related movements in
England, Germany, and France. The constituent elements
of Spanish romanticism were, in general, identical with those
that existed in the other lands just mentioned. There was
the same insistence upon the principle of freedom in art, the
same stressing of the importance of the individual fancy, and
the same predilection for Christian arguments and for all
matters appertaining to the chivalrous ideals of the Middle
Ages. But Spain of the nineteenth century had to be
aroused to the adoption of the romantic doctrines by (1) the
influence of foreign example, and by (2) ,the awakening,
through foreign scholarly impulse, of an interest in her own
literature of the Golden Period (the Sigle de oro), one of the
most eminently romantic periods in the history of European
literature. In affording the necessary example and in excit-
ing in the Spaniard an interest in his own older romantic

456 J. D. M. FORD.

literature, England played a part equally with France and
Germany; for the works of Scott and of Byron and the
Ossian of Macpherson- found no less favor in Spain than
the works of Hugo, Dumas the elder, and Goethe, and the
Englishman Hookham Frere, like the Germans Schlegel,
Jakob Grimm, Depping, and Bohl von Faber, indicated to
the Spaniard the wealth of inspiration in the older romantic
literature of Castile.

When the despot Ferdinand VII was restored to the
throne of Spain in 1814, he signalized his return to power by
exiling the young liberals, some of whom sought a temporary
refuge in England. Among them were such future leaders
of the Romantic movement as Rivas and Espronceda, who,
now on British soil, could come into direct relations with
English romanticism and could feel the full force of the spell
of Byron and Scott.

But even Spanish authors who had not taken part in the
exodus to England underwent the weird romantic influence
of Scott's chivalrous tales, and derived from him no slight
degree of inspiration. Thus, the statesman and poet Martinez
de la Rosa remarked, while in exile at Paris, the great vogue
of Scott's works and resolved to imitate them. The result
was his luckless historical novel, Dona Isabel de Solis. Some-
what more felicitous was the novel El Doncel de Don Enrique
el Doliente of Larra, that ill-starred genius generally known
by his pseudonym of Figaro. In his archaeologizing, in his
endeavor to master the details of mediaeval habits and
costumes, Larra has clearly modelled himself upon Scott.

The efforts of these writers who had not visited England
were not rewarded with the success which was gained by
the poetical novel El Moro Exposito of the Duke of Rivas
(Angel de Saavedra). Rivas found in the Lady of the Lake,
Marmion, and the kindred poems of Scott, just the machinery
that he needed for his own legendary tale. And, moreover,
was not Scott, the author of The Vision of Don Roderick,

ENGLISH INFLUENCE UPON SPANISH LITERATURE. 457

precisely the writer to attract the attention of the Spanish
patriot Rivas?

The direct incentive to the composition of the Moro Ex-
pdsito, one of the most important of the earlier Spanish
romantic productions of the century, reviving as it does the
old Spanish legend of the Infantes de Lara, was given to
Rivas by John Hook ham Frere, who had been envoy and
minister of England to Spain. In the dedication of his
poem, written in English and addressed to Frere, Rivas
expresses himself thus : — " I hope that I am not guilty of
presumption when I beg to dedicate the following pages to
you. ... 1 cannot help thinking that — poor as the tribute
is which I here pay to you — it will be kindly accepted ; not
only because of your constant partiality to the author, but
likewise because you have pointed out and led me into the path
in which I have entered with more boldness than success.
[That is, the path of reviving the Spanish heroic legend.]
To judge of my labors, no one is better qualified than you
are. With your well known classical erudition and acquaint-
ance with the principles and beauties of general poetry you
combine a very remarkable and intimate knowledge of the
language and literature of Spain — such, indeed, as few
Spaniards can boast/' etc.

If Frere knew Spanish literature as well as Rivas here
intimates and as Frere's translations from the Castilian prove,
Rivas was no less versed in English literature. Witness this
passage which I translate from the prologue of the Moro
Exposito : — " From Cowper to the present day, British litera-
ture is perhaps the richest of the modern literatures both in
the abundance and in the worth of its productions, precisely
because abandoning erroneous rules and having no care as to
whether they were classic or romantic writers, the authors
have become what the ancient classics were in their days and
what poets should be in all times. Scott, chivalrous ; Byron,
metaphysical and descriptive ; Campbell, pathetic, and at the

458 J. I>. M. FORD.

same time polished ; Southey, gentle (tierno) and erudite ;
Wordsworth, simple and loving, uniting to a very im-
pressionable soul a close and constant study of nature ;
Crabbe, a painter of the social man of the lowest classes,
describing in his style, as vigorous and rough as it is lively
and brilliant, the customs that portray natural and energetic
passions, vices, and crimes . . . . ; Burns, a spirited and faith-
ful interpreter of fervent love ; and Moore, gallant, keen,
witty, and of a lively fancy, although he has his mannerisms,
is also wont at the thought of his country to assume a loftier
and more ringing tone, and to imitate with his own inspira-
tion the style and tone of Tyrtaeus," etc.

Dilating no further upon the influence of Scott, we may
merely mention among his other Spanish followers, Zorrilla,
L6pez Soler, and Escosura.

The influence of the Ossian matter has already been cited
as an important factor in the development of Spanish
romanticism. This was not an English influence exerted
directly to any great degree ; for Montengon's Spanish trans-
lation of the Ossian legends, made toward the end of the
eighteenth century, was based upon Cesarotti's Italian ver-
sion, and, moreover, Gallego's Ossianic play, Oscar, hijo de
Ossidn, was a translation of the French drama of Arnaut.
An immediate influence of Macpherson's legends is clear,
however, in the l^ric Oscar y Malvina of that true poet
Espronceda, in whose Himno al Sol there is also visible an
imitation of the descriptive methods of the pseud o- Ossian;
and, in truth, it was the profound melancholy, the tragic
background and the generally misty landscapes of the Ossian
songs that most recommended them to the pessimistic and
lyric temperaments of the young Romantic poets of Spain.
Furthermore, not only the Romantic writers, but even a
spirit so entirely unromantic as Cabanyes seems to have
yielded to their subtle spell, which spread also across the
ocean and affected the sweet Cuban singer, Jose Maria
Heredia.

ENGLISH INFLUENCE UPON SPANISH LITERATURE. 459

A no less potent force than the influence of Scott and the
Ossian matter was that of Byron, whose unconventional
strains found responsive echoes in the poetic bosoms of Rivas
and Larra, and whose style and poetic mannerisms have been
happily imitated by Espronceda, the greatest Spanish lyric
poet of the century. Espronceda, who came into contact
with the Byronic influence while an exile in England, is no
servile follower. His doctrines, identical though they be with
those of Byron, are his own and are not merely borrowed
from the English poet. The story goes that the diplomatist
and historian, the Conde de Torreno, being asked one day
whether he had read Espronceda, replied : " No, but I have
read Byron." The remark, which soon became famous,
excited the ire of Espronceda, and rightly so in so far as it
implied a lack of originality in his works. Affinity of
character and purposes attracted him to Byron, to whom for
form and method — or the intentional lack of them — he is
greatly indebted ; but it cannot be denied that Espronceda's
loudest note, the note of pessimistic disgust which reverber-
ates through the Diablo Mundo, the Estudiante de Salamanca,
and shorter lyrics like the poem to Jarifa, is struck from the
chord of bitter personal experience and is no mere echo of
the Byronic note.

Space here forbids an ampler treatment of this subject, of
which, moreover, I meant to indicate only the interesting
possibilities. It is to be hoped that we shall soon have a
thorough investigation of the interrelations of Modern
English and Spanish literatures. Undoubtedly, the subject
deserves much more serious treatment than that accorded to
it in the Periods of European Literature, now being produced
under the supervision of an English scholar.

J. D. M. FORD.

PUBLICATIONS

OF THE

MODERN LANGUAGE ASSOCIATION OF AMERICA,

1901.
VOL. XVI, 4. NEW SERIES, VOL. IX, 4.

XV.— TWO NOTES ON THE HISTORIA EEGUM

BRITANNIA E OF GEOFFREY OF

MONMOUTH.

THE VEESIONS OF THE HISTORIA.

Despite Mr. Ward's thoroughness in his discussion of
Geoffrey's Historia,1 further consideration throws at least
grave doubt on one of his fundamental theories, the theory,2
namely, that Geoffrey published more than one distinct
edition of the Historia.

Ward argued largely from the fact that the abstract3 of
Geoffrey's book made and addressed to the otherwise un-
known Warinus by Henry of Huntingdon, from the copy
which he found in 1139 at the Abbey of Bee, differs in many

1 Cat. of Romances, I, 207 ff. Ward's conclusions have been for the most
part accepted without question ; though Geoffrey's latest student, Professor
W. L. Jones, differs on one or two points, in his article entitled Geoffrey
of Monmouth, in Trans, of the Hon. Society of Cymmrodorion for 1899, pp.
1 ff. ; also separately reprinted, London, 1900.

2 See especially pp. 209 ff.

3 Published in the Rolls Series Edition (ed. Hewlett) of the Chronicle
of Robt. de Torigny in Chrons. of Stephen, etc., iv, 65 ff.

461

462 R. H. FLETCHER.

respects from the Historia as it appears in existing MSS. The
-variations, however, may all be satisfactorily explained with-
out assuming more than one version.

Ward himself suggests that we can account for most of
them on the supposition that Henry merely took notes at
Bee, which he afterwards expanded when he had leisure.
This certainly disposes of such peculiarities as Henry's call-
ing Uter the son instead of the brother of Aurelius, and
of many others of the minor differences ; while most of
the rest are only the natural result of condensation. Such
changes as the addition of the statement that Brennus
(Geoffrey, or his scribe, writes Brennius) conquered Greece
and Asia, are doubtless due to Henry's knowledge of history,
real or supposed ; and his observation that Belinus won all
the lands about Britain, and his allusion to the Britons'
expectation of Arthur's return, are merely testimonies, paral-
lel to one or two which can be found in his own Historia
Anglorum? to his knowledge of certain British traditions.
The two principal additions — namely, the dramatic descrip-
tion of the opposition offered by the giants to the landing
of Brutus and his people, and that of the last battle of
Arthur — may easily be due to Henry's own imagination,
as Ward says, and as anyone will be convinced who will
compare the last part of the first and the beginning of the
second book of Henry's Historia Anglorum 2 with Nennius,
Bede, and the Saxon Chronicle, and observe how freely he
has there treated his sources.

Ward lays chief stress on Henry's omission from his
abstract of all mention of Merlin and the story of Yortiger's
tower, an omission hardly explicable, Ward maintains, on
the supposition that the work from which Henry copied
assigned any such importance to Merlin as does the existing

1 For example, his account of Helena, the mother of Constantino (bk. i,
ch. 37). See Arnold's introduction in his edition of Henry's Historia
Anglorum in the Rolls Ser., p. liv.

8 Especially bk. ii, ch. 2 ff.

GEOFFREY OF MONMOUTH. 463

version of Geoffrey's Historia. This inference, however,
can be shown to be erroneous. After the first three books,
Geoffrey's Historia covers ground which Henry himself had
previously treated in his Historia Anglorum, and Henry has
the latter constantly in mind while making his abstract, and
tries to be consistent with it. Several times in the abstract,
when speaking of the events of the Roman period, he breaks
off short with the observation, " Of this I have spoken in
my History of the Angles " (or " elsewhere "), and he rejects
Geoffrey's genealogy of the family of Cassibellaunus1 for
that which he had given in his history. Now, in compiling
the latter, he had seen fit to reject Nennius' account of the
boy Ambrosius and Vortiger's tower,2 and there was no
reason why he should adopt it from Geoffrey when Geoffrey had
merely expanded it3 and identified Ambrosius with Merlin.4

After the explanation of these points, no one, certainly,
will be inclined to attach any importance, as did Ward, to
the fact that Henry quotes only a part of the Latin poetry
which Geoffrey (i, 11) ascribes to Brutus and Diana.

Henry's letter, then, affords no evidence that Geoffrey's
Historia ever existed in a form essentially different from that
which we now possess. The only other very considerable
argument to that effect has been based upon the Bern MS.
of the Historia. At most, this MS. has never been held to
represent an edition nearly so unlike the existing one as that
which Ward postulated for the original of Henry's abstract,
but the idea that it stands for a different edition at all must,
I believe, be abandoned, at least for purposes of argument.
Professor Jones writes me that he is inclined to modify his

1 Geoffrey, iii, 20. f Nennius, sec. 40 ff.

3 Though the expansion is very great.

4 By a similar exercise of judicious skepticism, Henry omitted from his
history Nennius' story of the massacre of the Britons by the Saxons (the
" Long Knives" affair, Nennius, sec. 46) ; and in his abstract he condenses
into two lines the seven pages of Geoffrey's account of Maximus (Geoffrey
writes Maximianus) and Conan (v, 9-16), and into not very much greater
space the narrative of Arthur's reign after the defeat of the Saxons
(ix, 5-xi, 1).

464 E. H. FLETCHER.

views about the MS. as expressed in his article ; and it8
variations from the other MSS., which are said to occur
largely in the case of proper names, seem, I judge, to be no
greater than may be charged to the scribe, who may perhaps
have been a Welshman. Certainly, whatever may be true
of the dedication, if the MS. itself be supposed to represent
a version different from the standard one, it must be earlier
(since -its Latinity is less polished1) ; but Professor Jones tells
me that it includes in the prophecies the " Vae tibi, Neustria"
sentence,2 which Ward 3 showed to be a late interpolation.4

As to minor differences in the various MSS. (for instance,
in the book and chapter divisions 5), no one has ever shown
that they cannot perfectly well be due to the scribes, or, in
any case, that they are of enough consequence to indicate any
regular revision of the text.6

The other arguments for more than one edition being out
of the way, it should seem that no one can well continue to
question the correctness of Ward's judgment7 in interpreting
Geoffrey's statements (whose truth there is certainly no
reason to doubt) in book vii, chapters 1 and 2, as meaning

1 Jones, p. 19.

3 Bk. vii, ch. 3 of the standard form, lines 73-75 of San Marte's ed.

3 Pp. 208-9.

4 It is doubtless theoretically possible that the scribe followed in the
main an early copy and inserted this sentence from a later one ; but that
cannot be assumed without stronger reasons than any that have been shown.

5 See Hardy's account of the MSS. of the Historia, in his Catalogue of
Materials (Rolls Ser.), vol. I, part 1, pp. 341 ff.

6 It may be noted that Ward, taking the hint from the erroneous argu-
ment of Wright (Biog, Lit. Brit., Anglo-Norm. Period, pp. 143-4) which he
disproved (p. 213), argued that since Geoffrey speaks of Bishop Alexander
in the past tense (vii, 1) the "final" edition of the Historia must have
been prepared after the spring of 1148, when the bishop died. But so far
as has ever been stated all the MSS. agree in using the past tense here
(Professor Jones tells me that this is true of the Bern MS,), and it is
evident that the fact may be explained on various theories other than
that of a later edition.

7 G. Paris assumes without discussion the same opinion as Ward, in Hist.
Litt. de la France, xxx, 4.

GEOFFREY OF MONMOUTH. 465

that he published in an independent form, before the rest
of the Historia, the prophecies which in the MSS. represented
by the printed editions make up the bulk of the seventh
book. Geoffrey says directly : 1 " Nondum autem ad hunc
locum historiae perveneram, cum de Merlino divulgato
rumore, compellebant me undique contemporanei mei ipsius
prophetias edere."

Indeed, Ward's view seems to me sufficiently demonstrated
by the external evidence afforded by Ordericus Vitalis in his
excerpt 2 (discussed by Ward) from Geoffrey's account of the
scene introductory to the prophecies and from the prophecies
themselves. That Ordericus was quoting not from Geoffrey's
complete Historia, but from an independent edition of the
prophecies such as Ward supposes appears because :

1. He says that he is drawing " de libello Merlini," and
Geoffrey's decidedly extended Historia could not be called a
" libellus," nor is Merlin one of its chief characters.

2. Not only, in order to give the connection, does Orderi-
cus speak of Merlin as having been contemporary with St.
German us, and summarize the doings of the latter evidently
from Bede's account (i, 17—21) ; but he refers his readers
for further information "de casibus Britonum" to "Gildas
Brito" (evidently meaning Nennius, since he goes on to
speak of Arthur's twelve battles) and Bede. If Ordericus had
had Geoffrey's complete Historia at hand, even in an early
and less expanded form, he certainly would not have men-
tioned these much briefer accounts, or at least he would have
named Geoffrey also.

3. Moreover, in all probability, if Ordericus had known
the complete Historia, he would not have refrained from
making some further use of it.3

1 San Marte's ed., p. 92.

2 Bk. xii, ch. 47 ; in Le Provost's edition, vol. iv, p. 486.

• 3 Though the fact that he brings in his reference out of chronological
order (it really belongs in book i, vol. I, pp. 107-113) shows that he did
not become acquainted with the prophecies until his work was approach-
ing completion.

466 E. H. FLETCHEK.

That the " Libellus Merlini " from which Ordericus copied
was composed earlier than Geoffrey's Historia can at least
be shown to be very probable, for other reasons. Geoffrey
merely appropriated and made over from Nennius (sec. 42)
the story of the dragon fight which he used in the Historia^
and evidently also in the " Libellus Merlini," as the intro-
duction to Merlin's prophecies. Now, while Ordericus'
quotation from the prophecies themselves corresponds ver-
batim with the form in Geoffrey's Historia, and while
Ordericus' account of the dragon fight agrees in various
details, verbal or other, with Geoffrey as against Nennius,
yet in other details it agrees with Nennius as against
Geoffrey. In the two most significant of the latter cases —
viz.: (1) the substitution of " fundamentum " for "pavi-
mentum," "duos concaves lapides" for "duo vasa," and
the omission of the " tentorium complicatum," 2 and (2) the
modification of the statements which give or seem to give
the final outcome of the battle — Geoffrey's version is either
better than the others from an artistic point of view or else
more politic.3

Thus there seems to be no sufficient reason to doubt that
Ordericus did what we should expect, namely, for the most
part followed closely enough the text of Geoffrey's inde-
pendent edition of the prophecies,4 which, again as we should
expect, must have been more nearly like Nennius than is
Geoffrey's later version ; so that Geoffrey must have made

1 Bk. vi, ch. 19, lines 8 ff., of San Marte's edition.

2 Cf. Ward, p. 207.

3 To indicate the other agreements and differences between the respec-
tive accounts seems not worth while, since it would require the quotation
of all three entire, and the further variations are not individually
significant.

* Merely adding to Nennius' allegorical explanations one as to the mean-
ing of the "vasa" (which, however, may have been made by Geoffrey in
his original version) and introducing the change stated below (note, p.
467).

GEOFFREY OF MONMOUTH.

467

alterations when he came to insert the prophecies in the
Historia.1

I am not aware that any one but Le PreVost has called
attention to a sentence in this passage of Ordericus which
sets the later limit for the publication of the independent

1 Mention ought to be made of one somewhat puzzling point in Ordericus'
account. At the end of his excerpt from the prophecies, he says that those
will easily be able to interpret Merlin's words who are familiar with
history and know what things happened to Hengist and Catigern, Pascent
and Arthur, Adelbert and Edwin, etc. All these names, with those which
follow, Ordericus might easily have taken from Bede and Nennius, except
that of Pascent ; but the latter is not noticed by Bede nor made sufficiently
prominent either by Nennius (sec. 48) or by Geoffrey in his Historia (see
index to San Marte's edition) to explain why he should be mentioned with
Arthur ; and Ordericus' choice of names seems to have no particular rela-
tion with the prophecies. It is just possible, though I think not probable,
that the introduction which (as Ward suggests) Geoffrey must certainly
have furnished to the independent edition of the prophecies, may have
had more to say of Pascent than the Historia has.

Here I may add another to the explanations which Ward suggested for
Ordericus' change (I assume that it was made by Ordericus) in the alle-
gorical significance of the dragons, by which he inappropriately makes
the red typify the Saxons and the white the Britons, instead of the reverse.
Ordericus, unlike Nennius (who is not altogether clear, though he pretty
certainly means the same as Ordericus), but very possibly following the
original statement of Geoffrey (which may have been incautiously patriotic
and perhaps intended to be still prophetic in the twelfth century), says
categorically that the red dragon defeated the other ; and of course that
would seem to anyone but a Welshman to be historically true only if the
red was equated with the Saxons. So Ordericus may have made the change
for that reason. (Ordericus says: "Tandem rubeus vicit, et album usque
ad marginem stagni fugavit." Nennius : " Tandem infirmior videbatur
vermis rufus, et postea fortior albo fuit et extra finem tentorii expulit;
tune alter alterum secutus trans stagnum est, et tentorium evanuit."
Geoffrey in the Historia : " Praevalebat autem albus draco, rubeumque
usque ad lacus extremitatem fugabat. At ille .... impetum fecit in
album, ipsumque retro ire coe'git. Ipsis ergo in hunc modum pugnantibus,
praecepit rex" — and here Geoffrey passes to the prophecies.) Possibly
also the idea of the fantastic ecclesiastical explanation which Ordericus
gives immediately after for the meaning of the whiteness of the Britons,
occurred to his mind before he made the change in colors.

468 K. H. FLETCHER.

edition of the prophecies.1 The last of the princes whom
Ordericus mentions as furnishing proof of the inspiration
of Merlin's prophecies are Henry and Griffith (Henry I. of
England and Gruffydd ab Cynan of Wales), "qui," Ordericus
goes on, "dubia sub sorte adhuc imminentia praestolantur, quae
sibi divinitus ineffabili dispositione ordinantur." Gruffydd
lived until 1137,2 but Henry died on December 1, 1135, so
that Ordericus must have written the passage before the end
of that year, and Geoffrey must have published the prophe-
cies still earlier. If we could assume that the dedication to
Stephen and Robert of Gloucester in the Bern MS., which
dedication cannot have been written before April, 1136,3 is
earlier than that addressed to Gloucester alone which is found
in all the other MSS., we should thus have another indication
that the prophecies were published before the Historia as a
whole ; but there is no real proof that the usual dedication
was not the earlier4 and that of the Bern MS. temporarily
substituted for it sometime between April, 1136, and the
spring of 1137 (or possibly May, 1138).

The most reasonable theory about the composition of
Geoffrey's Historia seems to me, therefore, to be as follows :
Somewhere about 1135 Geoffrey was engaged on the work
when, as he says, Bishop Alexander and others persuaded
him to stop and publish the prophecies of Merlin ; which he
did, evidently not much later than about the middle of 1135.
He naturally provided the prophecies with a setting, which

JLe Provost's general theory (see his edition of Ordericus, vol. IV,
pp. 487, note 2, 491, note 3, and 493, note 4) of the relation of Ordericus'
account of the prophecies with Geoffrey's was overthrown by Ward (pp.
208-9), and his discussion appears to have been neglected in consequence.

2 Rhys and Jones, Welsh People, p. 307.

3 See Madden in Archaeological Journal, xv, 299-312, followed by Ward,
p. 213, and by Jones, p. 16.

* Madden points out some reasons for supposing that the usual dedica-
tion was at least written earlier.

5 And perhaps not much earlier, since there is no reason to suppose that
he long delayed putting forth the Historia after the appearance of the
prophecies, and no proof that it was published before 1136.

GEOFFREY OF MONMOUTH. 469

treated at least of the story of the dragon fight at Vortiger's
tower (adapted from Nennius). After this he went on and
completed the Historia, into which he incorporated the
prophecies with some changes in the setting. Unless the
Stephen-Gloucester dedication of the Bern MS. was the first
to be used, he temporarily substituted it for the other some-
time in 1136-8. At any rate, it cannot have been long in
circulation before he permanently replaced it by the other.
There is no proof that he ever made any regular revision
of the Historia, and the variations in the MSS. may well be
due to scribes.

II.

THE STORY OF BELINUS AND BRENNIUS.

For a long time1 it has been well understood that Geoffrey's
Historia is very largely a compilation, — that he put it together
out of material furnished by various historians, traditions, and
other sources ; in fact, out of pretty much everything that he
knew and could conveniently use.2 It is evident also that
Geoffrey exhibited great originality and brilliancy in the com-

1 Especially since the publication of San Marte's edition of the Historia,
in 1854. See also, for example: Rhys, Celtic Britain, p. 118, etc., and
passim in Hibbert Lectures on Celtic Heathendom and Studies in the Arthurian
Legend ; Madden in notes to his edition of Layamon ; Bieling, Zu den
Sagen von Gog und Magog, Berlin, 1882 ; Bugge, Studier over de nordiske
Gude- og Heltesagns Oprindelse, I, 185-8 (German trans, by Brenner, Studien
uber die Entstehung der nord. Goiter- u. Heldensagen, pp. 192-6) ; Sayce in Y
Cymmrodor, x, 207-221 ; F. Lot, Rom., xxvn, 1-54 ; Schofield in an article
on Chaucer's Franklin's Tale in the current volume of Publications of Mod.
Lang. Assoc. (I do not mean to imply that I accept all the theories set
forth in these discussions).

9 1 expect to discuss rather fully Geoffrey's sources and method for a
part of his work in a treatment of the " Arthurian Material in the English
Chronicles." I may note here an oversight of Heeger in his monograph,
Die Trojanersage der Britten, pp. 66 ff., where, in suggesting that Geoffrey
took ideas for his account of Brutus' wars in Greece (bk. i) from the events
of the struggle between Stephen and Matilda, he forgot that the events
happened after the publication of the Historia.

470 K. H. FLETCHER.

bination and application of these materials. One of the best
illustrations of these facts is afforded by his account of Belinus
and Brennius (iii, 1-10).

The first glance shows the connection of these figures with
the Belis and Brans of Aryan and Celtic mythology and
tradition,1 and the Brennus made known to us by the Roman
historians. San Marte, moreover, suggested a plausible ex-
planation for the procedure of Geoffrey (or of tradition before
him) in representing Belinus and Brennius as brothers and
associating them together in the conquest of Rome on the
basis of a passage in Livy, while the fact of the division
of their army into two parts and the subsequent course of
Geoffrey's narrative naturally remind one of the much later
campaign of the Cimbri and Teutones. All this, however,
does not account for Geoffrey's story of the brothers7 early
wars against each other for the possession of Britain. Com-
parison makes it almost certain that for that story Geoffrey
drew from the actual history of the relations between Harold
and Tostig, the sons of the Saxon Earl Godwin.

The substance of what Geoffrey says is this : that on the
death of the king their father, Belinus and Brennius fought
for the island, but at last divided it, Brennius, the younger,
receiving Northumbria, and Belinus the southern part, with
the supremacy. Later, on the advice of his counsellors,
Brennius determined to renew hostilities, went to Norway,
and got the help of its king. After a love episode, he made
his way to Britain with an army, was defeated by Belinus —
who, hearing of Brennius7 proceedings, had already seized
his territory — and escaped to Gaul. Becoming king of the
Allobroges, he engaged in another expedition against Britain,
and here the parallel ceases.

The story of the historical Harold and Tostig is as
follows : Their father was not king, but he was almost

J^Cf. on this and the following points San Marte's edition of Geoffrey's
Historia, pp. 232-242. Here cf. also Khys, Hibb&rt Lectures, pp. 90, 238,
245, 274, 666.

GEOFFREY OF MONMOUTH. 471

more than a subject, and after his death Harold practically
ruled England; Tostig, younger than Harold, was Earl of
Northumbria. They were both turbulent characters enough,
and according to a report which, though doubtless false,1 was
current in Geoffrey's time,2 Tostig early committed hostile
acts against Harold, which led to a feud between them. In
consequence of Tostig's cruelties, his people rose against him ;
Harold, going to restore order, finally abetted their act in
deposing him, and Tostig fled to Flanders. This was in
1065. The next year, after Harold had assumed the crown,
Tostig resolved on war, and came with a fleet to the Humber.
Driven away by Earl Edwin, he proceeded to Scotland, where
he found King Harold of Norway. With him he made
alliance, and together they invaded England, where, after
defeating Edwin and Morcar, they were overthrown and
slain by Harold at Stamford Bridge.

The resemblance of this series of events to Geoffrey's
narrative is still closer, in some respects, if one follows the
version of Ordericus Vitalis,3 which represents all the trouble
between Harold and Tostig as occurring after the former
had become king, and says that it was in consequence of a
determination on Tostig's part to fight Harold that the latter
deprived him of his earldom.

Of course, in any form, the history does not fit Geoffrey's
tale with absolute exactness. Geoffrey, for instance, makes
the flight of Brennius to the continent later than his union
with the king of Norway. But the important features,
though differently arranged, are for the most part the same
in both cases — the quarrel between the brothers ; the location
of the younger, who was not king, in Northumbria; his
alliance with the Norwegian monarch, invasions of England

1So Freeman, Norman Conquest, note GG, 2d edition, pp. 652 ff., also 379.

3 Represented, for example, by Henry of Huntingdon, Historia, vi, 25,
Kolls ed., Arnold, p. 197. For the history see also Wm. Malmes., ii, 200,
and Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, ann. 1065 and 1066.

3 Bk. iii, chaps. 11 and 14, written in 1123, according to Delisle's Notice
in Le Provost's edition of Ordericus, vol. v, pp. xlvi and xlviii.

472 K. H. FLETCHER.

(of which Tostig, like Geoffrey's Brennius, practically made
two), and flight across the channel.1 It is hardly possible
that Geoffrey should have written his story only seventy
years after the occurrence of a series of events so similar
without having it in mind. As to the differences, Geoffrey,
being a clever literary artist, was bound to make some
changes, and he had, also, to connect this narrative with
that of the brothers' continental campaign.

It looks also as if Geoffrey were influenced more indi-
rectly by another detail of the history ; for his account of
the attack of Guichtlacus, King of Denmark, on Brennius,
when the latter is going to fight Belinus, reminds one
strongly, mutatis personis, of the attack of Tostig and the
Norwegian Harold on Harold of England when the latter
was in danger from William of Normandy. It is as if
Geoffrey were economical of his materials and worked in all
of the original that he could, in one way or another.2

1 It ought to be noted that a few chapters earlier Geoffrey had already
given a brief outline sketch of some of the main features of the story of
Belinus and Brennius, applying it to Cunedagius and Marganus, who are
represented as cousins (ii, 15, lines 13-25). Here we have the division
of the kingdom, the stirring up of the younger (who again has North -
umbria) by counsellors, his attack, flight, and, in this case, death. But
this is only one of a considerable number of parallelisms which may be
observed between various incidents in Geoffrey's history. Compare, for
example, the stories of the two Leirs (bk. ii, chaps. 9 and 11); Belinus'
gate (iii, 10) and Cadwallo's brazen equestrian statue (xii, 13) with the
story (adopted from Nennius, 44) of the burial of Vortimer's bones;
the mediation of Genuissa (iv, 16) with that of Conwenna (iii, 7) ; the
descent of both Guanhumara (ix, 9, 11) and the mother of Ambrosius and
Uther (vi, 5) "ex nobili Romanorum genere"; the disposal by assassina-
tion (books vi and viii) of Constantinus, Constans, Vortimer, Aurelius,
and Uther, who are all successive, except that Vortiger's reign intervenes,
while Geoffrey seldom employs assassination in other parts of his history.

2 Very likely Geoffrey made use elsewhere of a part of the story of
Harold and Tostig, as the suggestion for the invasion of Britain by King
Humber (ii, 1 and 2), who landed and was defeated on the river which
therefore, says Geoffrey, bears his name. This seems the more likely
because Henry of Huntingdon emphasizes the fact that Tostig's army was
driven across the Humber, while Geoffrey says that many of the Hunnish
king's men were drowned in it.

GEOFFREY OF MONMOUTH. 473

It is quite possible that in assigning the cause of Brennius'
renewal of hostilities against Belinus, Geoffrey was influenced
by an historical fact of a few years after Harold's time; for
the courtiers of Prince Robert of Normandy are said1 to
have stirred him up to rebel against his father on the same
pretext which Geoffrey ascribes to those of Brennius, namely,
that the subjection in which he was kept was unworthy
of him.

But Geoffrey's narrative seems to be still more composite.
For San Marte has pointed out2 that in the love episode
of Brennius it presents similarities with the stories of the
Wilkinasaga and of Hilda and Gudrun, and that Guichtlacus
is a figure from Northern history and tradition. Moreover,
the remark that Brennius as ruler of the Allobroges arranged
with the Gauls for unmolested passage in his expedition
against Britain, reminds one of what Csesar says3 of the
Helvetii, — that they expected either to persuade or to com-
pel the Allobroges to the same passive assistance.4

If the hypotheses above presented are well-founded, in
Geoffrey's narrative of Belinus and Brennius he has brought
together (though perhaps, to be sure, with some help from
antecedent traditions) motives or suggestions from : two
ancient figures of Celtic mythology, the accounts of two criti-
cal periods in Roman history, another well-known event as
described by a Roman historian, a most dramatic story from
English history of the century before his own, a minor event
from English history of a few years later, and very likely
two or three Teutonic sagas.

It is hardly necessary to add that one who admits the
presence of all or many of these elements need not hold that

1 So Ordericus Vitalis, v, 10, ed. Le Provost, vol. n, p. 377. The date
of this book is 1127, according to Delisle in Notice, vol. v, pp. xlvii, xlviii.

3 Pp. 232-3. 'B. G., i, 6.

4 Geoffrey's account, also, of the hanging of the Roman hostages in
revenge for the faithlessness of their parents (chap. 9) was evidently
suggested by actual events of the same kind, with many of which he must
have been familiar.

474 R. H. FLETCHER.

Geoffrey selected (or even used) them all by a conscious
process. Some of them had doubtless passed into his general
stock of ideas, as is true of plots and situations in the case
of every reader and writer, so that he drew upon them
spontaneously without any very definite thought of their
source.1

ROBERT HUNTINGTON FLETCHER.

July, 1901.

XI may add that this section on Belinus and Brennius contains an
instance which San Marte overlooked of Geoffrey's borrowing from Gildas,
viz. : iii, 10, 20, " quantam nee retro aetas nee subsequens consecuta fuisse
perhibetur." Cf. Gildas, 21.

XVI.— THE BOOK OF THE COURTYER:
A POSSIBLE SOURCE OF BENEDICK AND BEATRICE.

" The best book that ever was written upon good breeding,
II OwtegianO) by Castiglione, grew up at the little Court of
Urbino, and you should read it," says Dr. Johnson to Boswell,
of all places in the world, in the Isle of Skye, " roving among
the Hebrides at sixty." But when, in the Life of Addison,
we find the Courtyer classed with Galateo, and compared with
the social essays of the Spectator and the Tatler, it becomes
clear that the Great Cham was so ignorant of the law he was
laying down in this instance, that he took II Cortegiano for a
courtesy-book, a book of etiquette : —

"To teach the minuter decencies and inferior duties, to
regulate the practice of daily conversation, to correct those
depravities which are rather ridiculous than criminal, to
remove those grievances which, if they produce no lasting
calamities, impress hourly vexation, was first attempted by
Casa in his book of manners, and Castiglione in the Courtier"
(Works, vii, 428, Addison.)

William Michael Rossetti, writing of Italian Courtesy-
Books for the Early English Text Society, enumerates ten
or a dozen such books, ranging from the Tesoretto of Brunetto
Latini, in 1265, the year of Dante's birth, to Giovanni della
Casa's Galateo, of about 1550. He includes II Cortegiano,
but calls attention to the fact that it contains but one refer-
ence, and that an incidental one, to what Dr. Johnson calls
"the minuter decencies" of life. It is among the facetiae,
and recalls to some of those who had been present an inci-
dent that happened at the dinner-table of Federico Gonzaga,
Marquis of Mantua. It is precisely because II Cortegiano is
not a mere courtesy-book that it has borne so well the judg-

475

476 MARY AUGUSTA SCOTT.

ment of time, and become the best book on manners that
ever was written.

For several years I have carefully kept account of all the
editions and reprints of II Cortegiano that I have met with,
and so far I have noted 1 142 impressions, in six languages.
Appearing at Venice, in 1 528, II Cortegiano was first trans-
lated into French nine years later by Jacques Colin, secretary
to Francis I, with a commendatory epistle to Mellin de Saint-
Gelais. It was turned into Spanish, in 1534, by Juan Bosc&n
Almogaver at the instance of his fellow-poet, Garcilaso de la
Vega, and into German, by Lorenz Kratzer, in 1565-6. It
' became an Englishman/ in 1561, at the hands of Thomas
Hoby, who, as Sir Thomas Hoby, died Elizabeth's ambassador
to France. An Elizabethan Latin translation, by Bartholomew
Clerke, ran to seven editions, while two different English trans-
lations appeared in the eighteenth century. Sir Thomas Hoby's
version has been far and away the most enduring Elizabethan
translation from the Italian; a reprint of it, appropriately
edited by Walter Kaleigh, is one of the Tudor Translations
of last year. Hoby's English limps behind the courtly grace
of the Italian, and it is at times inaccurate, but it is through-
out sympathetic, and is on the whole an excellent piece of
work. In my own case, I find I get the feeling of Castigli-
one best, if I quote from Hoby who lacked but a few years
of being his contemporary, than if I try to put the sixteenth
century Italian into my nineteenth century English.

Somewhat of the unique excellence of It Cortegiano is
due to the fact that it is the work of a life, practically the
sole Mieir of the author's invention/ Whatever Baldassare
Castiglione had known, and experienced, and thought, and
felt, he set down, refined and philosophised, in his book.
Indeed, a criticism of his own time was that he had fashioned

xFor the latest information on this point, Oct. 2, 1901, 1 am indebted
to Mr. Leonard E. Opdycke, who will publish a complete bibliography of
II Cortegiano, in his new English translation, now going through the De
Vinne Press, for Charles Scribner's Sons.

THE BOOK OF THE COURTYER. 477

himself in his Courtyer, nor did he wholly deny the charge,
replying with dignity, —

"Unto these men I will not cleane deny that I have
attempted all that my mynde is the Courtier shoulde have
knowleadge in. And I thinke who so hath not the know-
leage of the thinges intreated upon in this booke, how learned
so ever he be, he can full il write them." When Castiglione
died, as Apostolic Nuncio of Pope Clement VII. to Charles
V., the Emperor is reported to have said, " I tell you one
of the finest gentlemen in the world is dead." The biogra-
phy of Castiglione has then a two-fold interest ; it reveals II
Cortegiano in the making, and it shows the aesthetic tempera-
ment allowing the creature of its imagining to control the
practical conduct of life.

Baldassare Castiglione was born at Casatico, in the Mantuan
territory, in 1478. His father, Cristoforo, Count of Castigli-
one, was captain of a troop in the service of the Marquis of
Mantua; his mother, Luigia Gonzaga, was cousin to the
Marquis and to his sister, that Elizabetta Gonzaga, Duchess
of Urbino, whose praises are so devotedly chanted in II
Cortegiano. His early education was conducted by his mother,
who was the intimate friend of Isabella d'Este, Marchioness
of Mantua, one of the most learned and brilliant women of
the Renaissance. Later he was sent to the Court of Lodovico
Sforza, Duke of Milan, called II Moro, whose wife, the
beautiful Beatrice d'Este, was Isabella's sister, and it was
here, with a diplomatic career in view, that he acquired his
two-sided education. He became a learned soldier, and a
cultivated man of the world. The Moro was a splendid
patron of art, and we can fancy the clever boy, sensitive to
the beauty of the arts, going of a morning to Santa Maria
delle Grazie to talk with Leonardo while he was slowly
painting the Last Supper, " for," says Matteo Bandello, who
was then a novice in the Dominican convent of Santa Maria,
" this excellent painter always liked to hear people give
their opinions freely on his pictures." Doubtless the young
2

478 MARY AUGUSTA SCOTT.

courtier was more interested in the artist's great equestrian
statue of Duke Francesco Sforza, which he was modelling in
the Corte Yecchia from drawings of the big jennet and
Sicilian horse of Messer Galeazzo Sanseverino, mentioned
in Book I. of the Courtyer as master of horse to the French
king. Messer Galeazzo's brother, Gaspare, known by his
sobriquet of Captain Fracassa, was as famous for his rough
manners as Galeazzo was the modelof chivalric graces. He
is supposed to be the nameless warrior of Book I, who
rudely repulsed Caterina Sforza's invitation to join in dance
and song, because war was his profession. Caterina wittily
replied, that since no war was stirring, nor the Milanese
Court a proper field for war, she thought Messer Capitano
might well be besmeared and set up with other implements
of war in an armory, lest, she adds, "you waxe more rustier
than you are." At Milan Castiglione also met Bramante,
who was building the matchless cupola over the apse of
Santa Maria at the same time that Leonardo was painting
the Cenacolo in the Refectory. Cristoforo Romano, one of the
best artists whom the Duke of Milan had in his employ, was
then working on the Certosa, the great Carthusian church
and monastery at Pavia, which II Moro called the jewel of
his crown. Cristoforo is that artist of the Courtyer, who in
the First Book defends sculpture as superior to painting, not
without a touch of human nature withal, —

"I beleave verelye," he says to the Count of Canossa,
" you thynke not as ye speake, and all this do you for your
Raphaelles sake."

With the entry of Louis XII. into Milan, in October,
1499, the bright youth of Baldassare Castiglione was over.
The French king entered the city in a triumphal procession,
the dukes of Ferrara and Savoy riding beside him, Cardinals
della Rovere and d'Amboise in front, and a goodly array
of princes, nobles, and ambassadors following in his train.
Castiglione was one of these, in the suite of his kinsman, the
Marquis of Mantua. When the pageant was all over, he sat

THE BOOK OF THE COURT YER. 479

down and wrote a letter to his mother, describing with boyish
-enthusiasm the pomp and splendor of the scenes he had wit-
nessed, and the coming man is felt in his regret for the
change that had come to the Castello. Once those halls and
courts had been the haunt of rare intellects and great artists ;
now they were occupied by the rude French soldiery who
made a target of the great horse on which Leonardo had
spent the best years of his life. In Book I. Castiglione tells
us how the Frenchmen held learning in small esteem, in
Hoby's racy Elizabethan, " all learned men they count verie
rascalles, and they think it a great vilany whan any one of
them is called a clarke."

The fall of Milan precipitated Castiglione into that turmoil
of Italian politics, which, except for the brief respite of three
and a half years at the Court of Urbino, he was to rise with
and lie down with for the rest of his life. The Courtyer's
academic education was ended ; now he became an actor in a
great and troubled drama, in which the Pope, the Emperor,
the King of France, Venice, Florence, Naples, and the smaller
Italian states in turn occupy the stage. Castiglione first
entered the service of his kinsman, Francesco Gonzaga,
Marquis of Mantua, and passed thence to the Court of
Giudobaldo, Duke of Urbino, urged to the step in the first
instance by the natural desire to be with his cousin and
friend, Cesare Gonzaga, who is one of the young lords of the
Courtyer. II Cortegiano is the story of his calm and happy
life at Urbino, which lasted from September, 1504, to the
death of Duke Giudobaldo in April, 1508.

At Urbino Castiglione occupied himself partly with letters,
partly with diplomacy. He wrote elegant verse in Latin
elegiacs, and composed an eclogue, Tirsi, for the entertain-
ment of the Court. He was frequently sent on diplomatic
missions, once to King Louis XII., of France, at Milan, and
once, in the autumn of 1506, to the English Court, whence
he carried back from Henry VII. the Order of the Garter
for his master, Duke Giudobaldo, and received for himself

480 MAEY AUGUSTA SCOTT.

" a carcanet of price." This visit to England is alluded to
twice in the Courtyer: in Book I. he feigns that he was not
present at the conversazioni he reports, for the reason that he
was at the time absent in England ; in Book IV. he repre-
sents himself as writing from England what seems rather
extravagant praise of Henry VIII. as Prince of Wales, ' in
this prince nature seemed trying to outdo herself/ " planting
in one body alone so many excellent vertues, as were suffi-
cient to decke out infinit."

Either at Urbino, or subsequently in Rome, representing
the Duke at the papal Court of Leo X., Castiglione probably
came to know intimately most of the personages of the
Courtyer. In 1505, Pietro Bembo had brought out his book
of dialogues on the miseries and joys of lovers, entitled Gli
Asolanij and had dedicated it to Lucrezia Borgia. The third
book of Gli Asolani sets forth Bembo's ideas on Platonic
love, and suggested to Castiglione his magnificent praise of
ideal love at the close of the Fourth Book of the Courtyer.
Another ecclesiastic at Urbino was Bernardo Dovizi da
Bibbiena, whose gay comedy, Catandra, was, like Tirsi,
written for the delectation of the Court. This play of mis-
taken identities is the Italian double of the Comedy of Errors,
both tracing to the Menaechmi of Plautus. Very fittingly
Bibbiena conducts the conversation of the second evening on
wit and humor.

After the death of Giuliano de Medici, the Lord Julian
of the Courtyer, who was a good friend to the house of
Urbino, his brother, Pope Leo X., seized upon the duchy
of Urbino for his nephew Lorenzo, and Castiglione's ministry
in Rome came to an abrupt end. The Duke of Urbino fled
to Mantua, whence Castiglione followed, to enter into the
service of Federico Gonzaga, son and successor to his early
master. The young Marquis sent him back to Rome to
represent Mantua at the Courts of Adrian VI. and Clement
VII. During the closing years of Castiglione's life Charles
V. and Francis I. were playing their great game of chess for

THE BOOK OF THE COTJRTYER. 481

the mastery of Europe. Pope Clement VII., as a mere
bishop, found himself a less important piece than he liked,
so he borrowed Castiglione from the Marquis of Mantua,
and sent him on an embassy to the Emperor at Madrid,
characteristically entrusting him with secret messages to the
French king, at Pavia, on the way. At Pavia, in 1525,
' all was lost save honor/ and the sack of Rome followed in

1527. Castiglione fell between two stools; he was duped
by the wily Emperor and discredited with the Pope. He
survived his ill fortune a little more than a year, and died,
at Toledo, on February 7, 1529. He was buried in the
chapel of the Madonna delle Grazie at Mantua, where
Giulio Romano built his monument and Bembo inscribed
it. Raphael painted at least two portraits of Baldassare
Castiglione : one of them is in the Louvre ; the other, a full
length portrait, appears in one of the frescoes in the Stanze
of the Vatican. It is the picture of an Italian nobleman of
distinguished bearing, who looks out upon the world with
grave, clear eyes, and an open, tranquil countenance.

II Cortegiano revolved in Castiglione's mind just twenty
years. His own statement is that he made the first rough
sketch of it, " in a few days," in 1 508, " whyle the savour
of the vertues of Duke Giudobaldo was fresh in my mynde,
and the great delite I took in those yeeres in the loving
companie of so excellent Personages as then were in the
Court of Urbin." The book was published, at Venice, in

1528, coming to light at last in what its author considered
an imperfect state, through a misunderstanding with Vittoria
Colonna. What further perfections Castiglione might have
added to II Cortegiano, it is impossible to say ; what he has
left us is one of those books, not too numerous in any
language, in which the style suits the subject. It is a large
subject, a subject of infinite variety, — the education of a
gentleman, — treated in a broad, philosophical, eminently
human way, and written in the choicest Italian prose. Tak-
ing his literary form from the dialogues of Plato and the

482 MARY AUGUSTA SCOTT.

De Oratore of Cicero, Castiglione added to it the aesthetic
social setting of the Renaissance. The result is a running
dialogue, in narrative form, dramatically interspersed with
gay stories, delicate interruptions, combats of wit, repartee,
and serious monologues, which at times, as in the passages
on music and painting, rise to lyrical elevation of feeling.
The author professes to give an account of certain conversa-
zioni, rightly so called, which were held at the Court of
Urbino during the month of March, 1507. The inter-
locutors were ladies and gentlemen who were then enjoying
the hospitality of the Duke and Duchess. Among these
personages the chief are Giuliano de' Medici, called the
Magnifico, son of Lorenzo de' Medici, and brother to Pope
Leo X. ; Ottaviano Fregoso, afterwards the wise, but unfortu-
nate, Doge of Genoa who died in prison at Ischia ; his
brother, Messer Federico Fregoso, later titular Archbishop
of Salerno ; Count Lodovico of Canossa, Bishop of Bayeux
(1520); Pietro Bembo, secretary to Pope Leo X.,and cardinal,

and author of Gli Asolani: Bernardo da Bibbiena, cardi-

' '

nal, and author of Calandra; Arenno} called here PUnico
Aretino ; and Giovan Cristoforo Romano, the sculptor. The
ladies who take leading parts are the Duchess of Urbino,
born Elizabetta Gonzaga, and the Lady Emilia Pia, Countess
of Montefeltro. The conversations continue through four
successive evenings, and are conducted with great decorum,
under the personal oversight of the Duchess. She desig-
nates a different gentleman to conduct the debate each
evening, and deputes her own authority in matters of detail
to the Lady Emilia Pia. The device of a deputy mistress
of ceremonies, so far as I know, is Castiglione's own, and
it adds greatly to the success of his dialogue. The Lady
Emilia is a charming woman, who possesses at once quick
intelligence, good judgment, and a lively wit. If the talk
becomes discursive, it is her duty to bring it back to the
point; if personalities enter into it, her womanly instinct
interposes to keep the peace ; if it grows dull, a bright flash

THE BOOK OF THE COUBTYER. 483

of wit enlivens the situation. In short, the Lady Emilia
keeps the conversation well in hand, and with that exquisite
social tact which, it is said, only women acquire, she plays off
one person against another, so as to bring out the best each
has to offer.

The subject, " a good Courtyer, specifying all suche condi-
tions and particuler qualities, as of necessitie must be in
hym that deserveth this name," is that proposed by Messer
Federico Fregoso. - It is discussed under the general heads,
the qualifications of a Courtyer and their use, the qualifica-
tions of a Court lady, and the end of a Courtyer, especially
in his relations to his prince.

It is a mixed type of manners that Castiglione describes,
in that the education of letters of the Renaissance is engrafted
upon the military discipline of feudal times. "Armes," he
says, is " the Courtyer's chiefe profession " ; and again,
" I hould opinioun that it is not so necessary for any man
to be learned, as it is for a man of war." As to other
matters, the Courtyer ought to be well born, for the philoso-
phical reason that good birth is esteemed by all men, and
is therefore, in a worldly sense, a natural vantage ground.
Following the chivalric ideal, great stress is put upon the
training of the body, and particularly on horsemanship;
the Courtyer must be "a perfecte horseman for everye
saddle." The pattern of knighthood in all athletic exer-
cises whom Castiglione had before his eyes was Galeazzo
Sanseverino, son-in-law to the Moro. As a rider and jouster
Galeazzo was without rival. Strong, active, graceful, it is
said that in complete armor he could mount a horse at full
gallop, and wherever he entered the lists, at Milan, or Venice,
or Ferrara, or Urbino, he invariably came off victor. He
was captain of horse for the Duke of Milan, and for two
French kings, and fell, gallantly leading his troop, at Pavia.

In the education of letters, the Courtyer should be able to
speak and write well, imitating the diction of the best writers,
of whom, in the vulgar tongue, Boccaccio and Petrarch are

484 MAKY AUGUSTA SCOTT.

praised as models, but are not to be slavishly followed.
Further, the perfect Courtyer ought to be more than moder-
ately instructed in polite letters, he should " have not only
the understandinge of the Latin tunge, but also of the Greeke,
because of the many and sundrye thinges that with greate
excellencye are written in it." So in the other arts of expres-
sion, the Courtyer ought to know music, to be able to sing at
sight and to play on various instruments ; he ought also to
have a practical knowledge of drawing and painting. Better
even than singing at sight is singing solo to the lute, and
most especially thus singing in recitative, " for it addeth
to the wordes suche a grace and strength, that it is a great
wonder." As to grace and force of expression, Castiglione
speaks well of gesturing; he commends those story-tellers
who e relate and express so pleasantly something which may
have happened to them, or which they have seen or heard,
that with gestures and words they set it before your eyes,
and make you almost lay your hand upon it.' Grace, Cas-
tiglione writes of, like a past master in the art. There is
a grace beyond the reach of art in " that pure and amiable
simplicity which is so agreeable to the minds of men." And
again, " who so hath grace, findeth grace." It is a truism
to say that courtesy is a matter of feeling ; good manners
express good thoughts. So, with Castiglione whose ethical
idea is Aristotelian, grace passes into virtue, the most artistic
expression of all sorts is that of freedom under the law. It
is difficult to reconcile the lofty moral tone of II Cortegiano
with the era of pagan popes in which it first saw the light ; it
is, however, only fair to the penetration of those popes to say
that they recognized the difference between it and themselves,
and promptly put the book in the Index Expurgatorius.
Castiglione was a distinguished diplomat of Machiavelli's
own time, and he says, — "To purchase favour at great
mens handes, there is no better waye then to deserve it."
The first interest of a prince, according to Machiavelli, is to
find out the truth. The chief end of the Courtyer, says

THE BOOK OF THE COURTYER. 485

Castiglione, is to tell it. "I woulde not lyke that oure
Courtyer shulde at anye tyme use anye deceyte."

A brave man, a cultivated man, a good man, such is the
portrait of the Courtyer, painted by the personal friend of
Raphael, and Raphaelesque in manner. The outlines are
bold and free, the filling in is done with all that clearness
of vision, love of detail, and positiveness that differentiates
the Italians of the Renaissance from the men of every other
race and time. The skill with which the lights and shadows
of the portrait, the literary perspective of the dialogue, is
managed, is beyond praise ; the longest digressions occur on
different evenings, that on language on the first evening,
on facetiae, on the second, while Bembo's rhapsody on
Platonic love closes the book. As to the vexed question
of the ancients or the moderns in speech, we find Castiglione
writing his exquisite Italian on the sound principle that
those words are the best which express the thought in the
clearest way, the simplest language is the most passionate.
In other words, style is personality ; if you have anything
worth saying, and if you yourself are of worth, you can say
it to be understood, and remembered, of men.

Bibbiena's discourse on facetiae is a storehouse of good
things — good stories, good epigrams, good criticism. This
part of II Cortegiano is modelled closely on the second book
of Cicero's De Oratore. Some of the stories even are Cicero's,
but most of them are of Castiglione's own time. The anec-
dotes savor more of wit than of humor, the trick of incon-
gruity is rather intellectual than physical ; indeed, it is
expressly laid down that horseplay is unbecoming in a
gentleman. Nor, barring the plainer speech of earlier times,
are the facetiae indelicate. The Italian expurgated editions
show that the Church very likely indexed II Cortegiano on
account of the stories told at the expense of ecclesiastics,
most of them by that " fellow of infinite jest," Cardinal
Bibbiena himself. Many jests deal with ninnies, as that
of the simple citizen of Florence, who, when the exchequer

486 MAEY AUGUSTA SCOTT.

was empty, proposed to replenish it, either by doubling the
number of gates at which toll could be charged, or by
establishing two additional mints, and coining money day
and night, and the last he thought the speedier means of
growing rich. One of the best stories is told of a Lucchese
merchant, who went into Poland to buy sables. Coming
to the river Borysthenes (Dnieper), his Polish servants
found themselves unable to understand the Muscovite fur-
traders on the other side, because, it is alleged, the weather
was so cold that their words froze in the air before they
got across. So the Poles built a fire on the ice in the
middle of the river, and in about an hour, the Muscovite
words thawed out, and came down, "making a noise as
doeth the snow from the mounteignes in May." Note with
what apparent unconsciousness, but with what real art, the
pretty phrase, ' making a noise as doeth the snow from the
mounteignes in May ' is set in this funny story. All Castigli-
one's figures are simple, some of them are exquisitely graceful.
Speaking of cultivating grace, he says, "as the bee in the
green meadow buzzes about choosing out flowers, so shall the
Courtyer seek grace from every one that has it." So reason,
overcome by desire, is finely described in the figure of a ship
driven before the storm. Temperance followeth reason, " like
a tender lambe that renneth, standeth and goith alwaies by the
ewes side, and moveth only as he seeth her do." A picturesque
turn of thought introduces the conversation on wit and humor.
The Lady Emilia excuses Messer Federico Fregoso for a
time from discussing the qualifications of the Courtyer, while
the company listens to Bernardo da Bibbiena on jests, —

" Madam," says Messer Federico, " I knowe not what I
have lefte beehinde anie more, but lyke a travailer on the
waye now weerie of the peinefulnesse of my longe journey at
noone tide, I will reste me in Messer Bernardes communica-
tion at the sowne of hys woordes, as it were under some faire
tree that casteth a goodlye shadowe at the sweete roaringe
of a plentifull and livelye springe."

THE BOOK OF THE COURTYER.

487

It is impossible to speak too highly of the artistic setting
of the four evenings' conversation, sparkling with every
variety of graceful interlude, from grave to gay ; now a
pleasing metaphor, now a jest, a drollery, a skirmish of wit,
a dramatic episode. The dedication, to the Bishop of Viseo,
chants a miserere for the Duchess of Urbino, — " But the
thinge that should not be rehersed wythout teares, is, that
the Dutchesse, she also is dead." So the introduction to the
Fourth Book bewails the death of three of the personages
of the dialogue, all young men dying with the promise of
life fresh upon them. Almost immediately the company
assembles, and it is found that Ottoviano Fregoso, who is
to lead the conversation, is a little late in arriving; to relieve
the tedium of waiting two of the young men just spoken
of engage two of the ladies in a dance.

Near the close of the First Book Cesare Gonzaga is talk-
ing of the beauty of women, —

uAnd then was hard a great scraping of feet in the floore
with a cherme of loud speaking, and upon that every man
tourninge him selfe about, saw at the Chambre doore appeare
a light of torches, and by and by after entred the Lord
Generall with a greate and noble traine, who was then
retourned from accompaninge the Pope a peece of the
waye."

On the fourth evening Bembo's impassioned monologue
on love and beauty held the company spellbound until dawn
broke, —

" Whan the windowes then were opened on the side of the
Palaice that hath his prospect toward the high top of Mount
Catri, they saw alredie risen in the East a faire morninge
like unto the coulour of roses, and all sterres voided, savinge
onelye the sweete Governesse of the heaven, Venus, whiche
keapeth the boundes of the nyght and the day, from whiche
appeered to blowe a sweete blast, that filling the aer with a
byting cold, begane to quicken the tunable notes of the prety
birdes, emong the hushing woodes of the hilles at hande.

488 MARY AUGUSTA SCOTT.

Wherupon they all, takinge their leave with reverence of
the Dutchesse, departed toward their lodginges without
torche, the light of day sufficing."

A striking excellence of Castiglione's style is its Dantesque
quality of seeing clear and thinking straight. This enables
him to pack his thought into those pithy sentences which
abound throughout II Cortegiano, and which translate with
extraordinary precision into the plain Tudor prose of Hoby.
"Wisdome," says Castiglione, "consisteth in a certaine
judgement to chouse well."

" But the seasoning of the whole muste bee discreation.1'
"He that can commaunde is alwayes obeyed."
"True pleasure is alwaies good, and true sorow, evell."
And above all, the admirable summing up of the duties
of a Courtyer, " to speake and to do."

There is much evidence among the Elizabethans of the
vogue of the Courtyer. Ascham, in the Scholemaster, advises
young men to read Castiglione, instead of going to Italy to
mar their manners. Marston (Satires and The Malcontent)
refers to him ironically as " the absolute Castilio." Webster
and Dekker quote him in Westward Hoe. Ben Jonson,
speaking, in Timber, of style, observes that life is added to
writing by resort to epigrams, witticisms, repartee, " such as
are in the Courtier, and the second book of Cicero De Ora-
tore.}) Just here we are confronted with the familiar crux,
did Shakspere know the Courtyer? Is it possible that the
greatest of the Elizabethans, living through the time when
translations from the Italian were " solde in every shop in
London," was ignorant of one of the oldest and best and
most popular of them ?

One of the most familiar of Castiglione's stories, alluded
to in one way or another by Peacham, Nash, Taylor the
Water-Poet, Hall, and Ben Jonson, is that of the penurious
farmer who made a corner in grain, and then hanged himself
when the price of the commodity went down, instead of up.
Prof. Walter Raleigh thinks the porter in Macbeth was think-
ing of this story when he said, —

THE BOOK OF THE COUBTYER. 489

" Here's a farmer, that hanged himself on the expectation
of plenty : come in time."

He also suggests that Polonius's advice to Laertes bears
the ear-marks of the Courtyer, especially in the matter of dress.

George Wyndham (Introduction to the Poems of Shakspere)
considers Spenser's Hymne in Honour of Beautie but a versi-
fying of the Fourth Book of the Courtyer, and goes on to
argue interestingly that Shakspere must have taken, from this
Hymne, and from the Courtyer, the Platonic philosophy of
the Sonnets. Plato's theory of Beauty, so eloquently ex-
pounded by Bembo, that the world and all that is in it, are
but reflections of the Heavenly Beauty is expressed in a few
lines in one of the poems of Michael Angelo : —

Lo, all the lovely things we find on earth,
Resemble, for the soul that rightly sees,
That source of bliss divine which gave us birth :

Nor have we first-fruits or remembrances

Of heaven elsewhere. Thus, loving loyally,
I rise to God, and make death sweet, by thee.

Shakspere, being Shakspere, varies the Platonic theory.
For him, the friend's beauty is no longer the reflection of
Heavenly Beauty, but, with overwhelming insistence, it dis-
places the Eternal Beauty, and becomes itself the substance
of which all beautiful things are but shadows. He writes, in
the Fifty-third Sonnet,

What is your substance, whereof are you made
That millions of strange shadows on you tend ?

I agree with Mr. Wyndham and Mr. Raleigh that Shak-
spere knew the Courtyer, and I would suggest as evidence
of that fact that he found in it Benedick and Beatrice in the
Lord Gaspare Pallavicino and the Lady Emilia Pia. Wher-
ever Shakspere lit upon the plot of Much Ado About Nothing,
the remote source of it is Bandello's twentieth novella,

How Signor Timbreo di Car dona became enamoured of
Fenicia Lionata and of the various and unlooked for chances
which befell before he took her to wife.

490 MARY AUGUSTA SCOTT.

In this story there is no Benedick and no Beatrice, nor
has any one as yet pointed out where in Italian literature
Shakspere found these two bright creatures, for they are
plainly of Italian origin. Hero's story is sad enough, but
it is not tragical, and it is rather commonplace; it does,
however, furnish the shadows of a comedy as Shakspere
conceived comedy. Having decided upon his plot, meaning
it for a main plot, I fancy the poet casting about for some-
thing bright to enliven it. And here at hand was a charming
witty pair in a dramatic dialogue. All there was to do was
to disguise the names of real persons, to make Beatrice Hero's
cousin and give her Benedick for a lover. And with a fool
or two, for Shakspere dearly loved a fool, presto ! a spark-
ling comedy fairly effervesces.

In the first place, it is not unreasonable to suppose that
Shakspere had read the Courtyer. It was a popular book,
and popular precisely in that courtly set in which Shakspere
was fairly well established by 1600, the date of Much Ado
About Nothing. Hoby's translation of II Cortegiano, The
Courtyer of Count Baldessar Castillo , appeared first in 1561,
and three subsequent editions came out during Shakspere's
life, two of them, the editions of 1577 and 1588, before
Much Ado. The edition of 1588 was printed in three
languages, in parallel columns, Italian, in Italics, French,
in Roman, and English in black letter. Florio, in his Second
Frutes, published in 1591, mentions "Castilion's Courtier
and Guazzo his dialogues " as the two books most commonly
read by those who wanted to know a little Italian. Sidney
Lee, in his recent Life of Shakspere, concludes that to Shak-
spere's " small Latin and less Greek " must be added a little
Italian. He must have been able to read the language at
least well enough to follow the thread of a tale, for Portia's
story as he tells it in the Merchant of Venice was accessible
to him only in the Italian story-book, II Pecorone, of Ser
Giovanni Fiorentino. So that if he had John Wolfe's tri-
lingual edition of II Cortegiano among his books, I do not

THE BOOK OF THE COURTYER. 491

believe he used it for the purpose of learning a little Italian.
I am sure he was fascinated by the bright dialogue in the
black letter English. Except in Lyly's plays and in what
he had already done himself, there was no such dialogue in
English. Leaving Lyly's artificial style out of account, it
is no disparagement of Shakspere and not overpraise of
Castiglione, to say, that up to the time of Much Ado Shak-
spere had done nothing in dialogue that can be compared to
the freedom and ease and grace of the conversazioni of II
Cortegiano. The Italians, taking the dialogue as a literary
form from the ancients, had cultivated it until they were
masters of dramatic colloquy, not indeed in their playsj but
precisely in such courtly conversations as " Casti lion's Cour-
tier and Guazzo his dialogues.77

If Benedick and Beatrice are the Lord Gaspare Pallavicino
and the Lady Emilia Pia, as I believe they are, there was
absolutely nothing to do to the characters, for dramatic
purposes, except to make them lovers, and there are indica-
tions even of that in the Courtyer.

In the first scene of the first act of Much Ado, when
Beatrice is quizzing the messenger about Benedick, Lionato
says,

"You must not, sir, mistake my niece. There is a kind
of merry war betwixt Signior Benedick and her : they never
meet but there7s a skirmish of wit between them.77

The " merry war 77 between the Lady Emilia and the Lord
Gaspare begins at once in the Courtyer : —

" So the daye after the Pope was departed, the companye
beeinge gathered to the accustomed place, after muche pleasant
talke, the Dutchesse pleasure was that the Lady Emilia should
beginne these pastimes : and she after a litle refusing of that
charge, sayd in this maner : Syth it is your pleasure, Madam,
I shall be she that must give the onsett in oure pastimes this
night, bicause 1 ought not of reason disobey you, I thinke
meete to propound a pastyme, whereof I suppose shall ensue
little blame, and lesse travayle. And that shall be to have

492 MARY AUGUSTA SCOTT.

every man, as nigh as he can, propounde a devyce not yet
hearde of, then shall we chuse out such a one as shall be
thought meete to be taken in hande in this companye.

"And after she had thus' spoken, she tourned her unto the
Lord Gaspare Pallavicino, willynge him to propounde his :
who immediatelye made answere : " But first, Madam, you
must beeginne to propound yours.

" Then saide the Lady Emilia : I have alreadye done. But
your grace must commaunde him, Madam, to be obedient.

" Then the Dutchesse laughynge : To thintent, quoth she,
every man shall obey you, I make you my deputy, and give
unto you all mine aucthority.

" It is surely a great matter, aunswered the Lord Gaspar,
that it is alwaies lawfull for women to have this privilege, to
be exempt and free from paines taking, and truelye reason
woulde we should in any wise knowe why " l (35).

Compare the Lady Emilia's turning first to the Lord
Gaspare for his device, with Beatrice's opening speech, show-
ing in what corner, for her, the wind sits, —

"I pray you, is Signior Montanto returned from the wars
or no?" (i. 1).

So in the final skirmish of wit between them with which
II Cortegiano closes, the Lady Emilia, Beatrice-like, gets in
the last word : —

"And as they were now passing out at the great chambre
doore, the Lord Generall tourned hym to the Dutches, and
said : Madam, to take up the variance beetweene the Lord
Gaspar and the Lord Julian, (as to whether women could
1 attain to the heavenly love or not,) we will assemble this
night with the judge sooner than we did yesterdaye.

" The Lady Emilia answered : Upon condicion, that in
case my Lord Gaspar wyll accuse women, and geve them, as
his wont is, some false reporte, he wil also put us in

1The quotations throughout refer to the pages of The Book of The
Courtier. With Introduction by Walter Raleigh. London, 1900. (The Tudor
Translations.)

THE BOOK OF THE COURTYER. 493

suretye to stand to trial], for I recken him a waveringe
starter" (365).

When, in Much Ado (i. 1), Claudio questions Benedick
about Hero, Benedick replies, —

" Do you question me, as an honest man should do, for my
simple true judgment; or would you have me speak after
my custom, as being a professed tyrant to their sex?'

Let us consider the Lord Gaspare as ' a professed tyrant to
the sex?

u Nowe the Lord Gaspar Pallavicino answered here smil-
iuge : You to confirme your judgement with reason, alleage
unto me women's doinges, which for the most part are voide
of al reason. . . .

. . . . " Here manie began and in maner all, to speake
againste the Lord Gaspar, but the Dutchesse made them all
to houlde their peace. Afterward she said smilinge : If the
yll which you speake of women were not so farr wide from
the truth, that in speakinge it, it hurteth and shameth rather
the speaker then them, I would suffer you to be answered "
(144).

When Bibbiena, at one of Lord Gaspar's taunts at women,
refers to the Magnifico as l in every place the protector of
women/ the Lady Emilia says, smiling,

" Women neede no defend ou re againste an accuser of so
small authoritie. Therefore let the Lord Gaspar alone in
this his froward opinion, risen more because he could never
finde woman that was willynge to loke upon him, then for
anye want that is in women" (179).

Compare this with Beatrice's (Much Ado, i. 1.)

Beat. " Is it possible disdain should die while she hath
such meet food to feed on as Signior Benedick ? Courtesy
itself must convert to disdain, if you come in her presence.

Bene. " Then is courtesy a turncoat. But it is certain I
am loved of all ladies, only you excepted : and I would
I could find in my heart that I had not a hard heart ; for,
truly, I love none.
3

494 MARY AUGUSTA SCOTT.

Beat. "A dear happiness to women : they would else have
been troubled with a pernicious suitor."

Bernardo da Bibbieua observed that he did not know
but that women endured patiently any sort of ill report,
except that touching their honor.

"Then a greate parte of the women there, for that the
Dutchesse had beckened to them so to doe, arrose upon their
feete, and ran all laughyng toward the Lord Gaspar, as they
wold have bufleted him and done as the wood women did to
Orpheus, saing continually : Now shall we see whether we
passe to be yll spoken of or no. ...

" But the Lord Gaspar said : See I pray you where thei
have not reason on their side, they will prevaile by plaine
force, and so end the communication, gevinge us leave to
depart with stripes" (204).

The scene suggests Benedick's (Much Ado, ii. 1.)

" She told me that I was the Prince's jester, and that I
was duller than a great thaw ; huddling jest upon jest, with
such impossible conveyance, upon me, that I stood like a
man at a mark, with a whole army shooting at me."

At the close of the second book of the Courtyer, while
they are choosing some one to lead the conversation on the
Court lady, the Lady Emilia says, —

" Madam, I pray God it fall not to oure lott to give this
enterprice to anye confederate with the Lord Gaspar, least he
facion us for a gentil woman of the Court, one that can do
nought elles but looke to the kitchin and spinn " (206).

The Magnifico undertakes to fashion the Court lady,
and does it so liberally, imagining such a bright, sweet,
brave creature, possessing " the knowleage of all thinges in
the world," together with " the vertues that so syldome times
are scene in men," that the Lord Gaspar wonders why he
will not have women to rule cities, to make laws, and to lead
armies, while men stand spinning in the kitchen.

" The Lord Julian answered smiling : Perhaps this too
were not amiss. Do you not know that Plato, which indeed

THE BOOK OF THE COURTYER. 495

was not very friendly to women, giveth them the overseeing
of cities ?" (222).

The Lord Gaspar having asserted that women are a de-
fault of nature, the Magnifico argues that the genus homo
includes both man and woman, and that therefore one sex
alone cannot be an imperfection of nature, that Orpheus said
that Jupiter was both male and female : " and it is read in
Scripture that God facioned male and female to his likeness/'

" I would not," said the Lord Gaspar, " we should entre
into these subtill pointes, for these women will not under-
stande us. ... Yet sins we are entred into them, only this
will I saye, that, as you know it is the opinion of most wise
men, the man is likened to the Fourme, the woman to the
Mattier : and therfore as the Fourme is perfecter than
the Mattier, ... so is the man much more perfect than the
woman." . . .

Then the Lady Emilia, turning to the Lord Julian :
"For love of God, quoth she, come once out of these your
Mattiers and Fourmes and males and females, and speake so
that you maye be understoode " (223).

To the Lord Julian's stories of noble women in ancient
history, the Lord Gaspar cries : " Tushe, my Lord Julian,
God woteth how these matters passed, for those times are so
farr from us, that manye lyes may be toulde, and none there
is that can reprove them " (244).

The " merry war " between Lady Emilia and Lord Gas-
pare is at its height in the Third Book, where the Magnifico
is discussing the qualifications of the Court lady. But
Gaspare, for all his chaff, is, like Benedick, eminently reason-
able and practical, and so he is ready to admit that the
Lord Julian " hath facioned this woman of the Palaice most
excellent. And if perdee there be any suche to be found,
I say she deserveth well to be esteamed equall with the
Courtier "(271).

" The Lady Emilia answered : I will at all times be
bouude to finde her, whan you finde the Courtier." The

496 MARY AUGUSTA SCOTT.

repartee is of a piece with Beatrice's promise to eat all
the enemy of Benedick's killing (i. 1).

The Lord Gaspar's whole attitude towards women, half in
earnest, half banter, is quite in the vein of Benedick's gay,
half serious mockery.

" That a woman was my mother, I thank her ; that she
brought me up, I likewise give her most humble thanks :
but all women shall pardon me, because I will not do them
the wrong to mistrust any, I will do myself the right to trust
none"(i. 1).

That Lord Gaspare and Lady Emilia enjoy the sparring,
and have a kindly feeling towards each other is evident.

In the Fourth Book when Lord Gaspare interrupts to
fling an irrelevant jibe at women, the Lady Emilia checks
him, smiling:

"It is not in the Covenaunt that ye shoulde a freshe
fall to speake yll of women " (321).

Compare the reproof with Beatrice's first direct speech to
Benedick (Much Ado, i. 1).

" I wonder you will still be talking, Signior Benedick :
nobody marks you."

At the close of Bembo's inspired lyric on Platonic love,
the Lord Cesare Gonzaga, who is a simple, downright sort
of person, says : (363).

" The way that leadeth to this happiness is so stiepe that
I beleave it will be much a do to gete to it." (Note the little
phrase ' much ado ' here ; did it, together with his poor plot,
suggest to Shakspere the title of his play ?)

" The Lord Gaspar said : I beleave it be harde to gete up
for men, but impossible for women.

. " The Lady Emilia laughed and said : If ye fall so often
to offende us, I promise you, ye shall be no more forgiven "
(363).

So much for the play of the two characters, the one upon
the other, which I think is strongly suggestive of Benedick
and Beatrice.

THE BOOK OF THE COURTYER. 497

It will be remembered that the scene of Much Ado About
Nothing is laid in Messina, where Bandello puts it, and that
Benedick is described as "a young Gentleman of Padua."
The Lord Gaspare was of the noble and widely ramified
family of the Pallavicini, who in the days of the republics
shared with the Corregii the government of Parma. As a
Lombard nobleman, Gaspare has a certain independence of
character, a certain seriousness that gives weight and dignity
to the conversations on the Courtyer. Probably the develop-
ment of the dialogue depends more on him than on any one
else, for he is not only always ready with inquiries, but he
seems to pursue a subject furthest, as if he were bent on
finding out all there was in it.

Speaking of love, in the Third Book, the Count of Canossa
laughed, and said :

"But many times for overmuch love men committ great
folies. . . .

" The Lord Cesar answered, smiling : Of good felowshippe
let us not discover oure owne oversightes.

" Yet we must discover them, answered the Lord Gaspar,
that we maye knowe how to amende them " (283).

How like this is to Benedick's,

" Happy are they that hear their detractions, and can put
them to mending " (Much Ado, ii. 3).

It is the seriousness underlying the character of Benedick
that sets off his wit so finely. It is a more reflective kind
of wit than Beatrice's, slower, more akin to wisdom. It is
the young Lord Gaspare who says, " for knowleage commeth
verye syldome times beefore yeeres " (340).

Benedick's mind penetrates at once to the clue of the
conspiracy against Hero, —

" The practice of it lives in John the Bastard,
Whose spirits toil in frame of villainies." (iv. 1.)

He is too sincere a gentleman to swerve from the truth for
an instant, —

" Surely I do believe your fair cousin is wrong*d." (iv. 1.)

498 MARY AUGUSTA SCOTT.

Among other parallelisms of thought, I would recall that
the Lord Gaspare's subject for the dialogue is the ideal
woman, what virtues she must have, and what faults may
be overlooked in her. Benedick (ii. 3) actually enumerates
the graces a woman must have to come into his grace.

" Rich she shall be, that's certain ; wise, or I'll none ; . . .
fair, or I'll never look on her ; mild, or come not near me ;
noble, or not I for an angel ; of good discourse, an excellent
musician, and her hair — shall be of what colour it please
God."

Again, in Book Third, the Lord Gaspar tells a story
of a husband who asked leave of the Roman Senate to
commit suicide, because he could not "abide the continuall
weerisomnes of his wife's chattynge." Benedick "cannot
endure my Lady Tongue." " I would to God some scholar
would conjure her; for, certainly, while she is here, a man
may live as quiet in Hell as in a sanctuary ; and people
sin upon purpose, because they would go thither." (Much
Ado, ii. 1).

It is easier to identify precisely the Lady Emilia Pia than
the Lord Gaspare Pallavicino. She was sister of Margherita
of Carpi, wife of Antonio Maria Sanseverino, one of the
twelve Sanseverini brothers, " i gran Sanseverini," whom
Castiglione had known at the Milanese court. Her father1
was Marco Pio, first cousin, once removed, of Alberto Pio,
Lord of Carpi, who furnished Aldo Manuzio with the means
to start his printing press. The pedigree of the brilliant
Lady Emilia is most interesting, for Alberto Pio was the
nephew of that paragon of learning and accomplishments,
Giovanni Pico, Count of Mirandola, who was himself grand-
nephew to Boiardo. The Lady Emilia came by her wit
right nobly.

In Much Ado About Nothing, Beatrice is said to be the
niece of Leonato, and cousin to Hero, but she is not the
daughter of Leonato's brother, Antonio ; her parentage is
not given. One of the gentlemen present at the conversa-

THE BOOK OF THE COURTYER. 499

tions on the Courtyer is the Lord Lodovico Pio, but his
relationship to the Lady Emilia is not stated, nor does he
take any part in the dialogue. The Lady Emilia, like
Beatrice, is a free lance.

In introducing her, it is said that she had such a lively
wit and judgment that she "seemed the maistresse and
ringe leader of all the companye, and that everye manne at
her receyed understandinge and courage. There was then to
be hearde pleasaunte communication and merye conceytes,
and in every mannes countenance a manne myght perceyve
peyncted a lovynge jocundenesse. So that thys house truelye
myght well be called the verye mansion place of Myrth
and Joye."

"And there will the Devil meet me, with horns on his
head, and say: Get you to Heaven, Beatrice, get you to
Heaven; here's no place for you maids: so deliver I up
my apes, and away to Saint Peter; for the Heavens, he
shows me where the bachelors sit, and there live we as merry
as the day is long" (ii. 1).

Just the way in which the different gentlemen received
"understandinge and courage" from the Lady Emilia is most
skilfully managed. She chose the Count of Canossa to con-
duct the first evening's conversation, not, she says, because
he has all that belongs to a good Courtyer at his fingers'
ends, but because he will bring out all the pros and cons
of the subject, and so give every one a chance to say some-
thing, whereas if a more skilful person were to undertake
the theme, nothing would be said against him "for telling the
truth." The Count makes them all laugh by the retort,

" We neede not feare, Madam, that we shal wante contra-
rying in wordes againste hym that telleth the truth, as longe
as you bee here."

When the Count and Messer Federico are exchanging
compliments as to which is the better wit, the Lady Emilia
interrupts with,

" It is not the order that the disputation shoulde be con-

500 MAEY AUGUSTA SCOTT.

sumed upon your praise, it sufficeth ye are verie well knowen
all."

For this speed of tongue, Bibbiena nicknames her, " Lady
Emilia Impia."

One or two passages between her and Pietro Bembo
are noteworthy. When Bembo demurs a little before speak-
ing of Platonic love, the Lady Emilia says, " halfe in angre :
There is never a one in al the company so disobedient as you
be, Messer Peter, therfore shoulde the Dutchesse doe well to
chastice you somewhat for it."

" Messer Peter said, smiling : For love of God, Madam,
be not angrye with me, for I will say what ever you will
have me."

" Goo to, saye on then," answered the Lady Emilia. And
what a pretty picture of the two is this.

" When Bembo had hitherto spoken with such vehemencye,
that a man woulde have thought him ravished and beeside
himselfe, he stoode still without once mooving, houldinge his
eyes towarde heaven as astonied, whan the Lady Emilia,
whiche together with the rest gave most diligent eare to this
talke, tooke him by the plaite of hys garment and pluckinge
hym a litle, said :

" Take heede, Messer Peter, that these thoughtes make not
your soule also to forsake the bodye."

" Madam," answered Messer Peter, " it shoulde not be the
first miracle that love hath wrought in me."

In one case, Much Ado, quotes the thought of the Courtyer
outright. The rather futile Claudio, having won Hero in a
roundabout way, through the suit of Don Pedro to her
father, has nothing to say for himself. Beatrice thinks
something should be said, and breaks in, —

Beat. " Speak, Count, 't is your cue;" whereupon Claudio
says, " Silence is the perfectest herald of joy : I were but
little happy, if I could say how much " (ii. 1).

One of Castiglione's terse sentences is, "He that loveth
much, speaketh little."

THE BOOK OF THE COURTYER. 501

It may be objected to ray theory of the origin of Benedick
and Beatrice in the Lord Gaspare Pallavicino and the Lady
Emilia Pia, that Shakspere found the couple in the old play
Benedicte and Betteris. We first hear of such a play in the
Lord-Treasurer Stanhope's Account for 1613, thirteen years
after Much Ado About Nothing. It is not at all unlikely
that "Benedicte and Betteris" is a second title, as Twelfth
Night has the variant, " What You Will." Halliwell says that
Charles I. in his copy of the Second Folio, preserved in
Windsor Castle, has added the name "Benedick and Bea-
trice" as a second title. Or, it may have been a popular
title, from the best of the piece.

Leonard Digges says, —

let but Beatrice

And Benedicke be seene, loe in a trice
The Cockpit, Galleries, Boxes all are full.

But even if Much Ado is a refurbished older play, first
heard of thirteen years after Shakspere's comedy, there is
nothing in that to hinder the older play's tracing to the
Courtyer, though it would question Shakspere's familiarity
with Hoby's dialogue. I do not myself much believe in the
older play, because Much Ado does not seem to me a remark-
ably well constructed drama, as it might have been if worked
over by a good playwright, not to speak of a great one. It
strikes me as loosely strung together, precisely as if it were
made out of odds and ends, some very good material, as
the wooing of Benedick and Beatrice, and Dogberry and the
stupid watch, and the rest of it, Hero's story, mere stock
in trade.

To sum up, I would submit,

First, that Benedick and Beatrice are plainly of Italian
origin ; in Italian literature the Lady Emilia is first seen in
the Lady Pampinea of the Decamerone.

Second, that they do not belong to Hero's story in Bandello,
and fit into it loosely in Shakspere, precisely as if they did
not belong to any story.

502 MARY AUGUSTA SCOTT.

Third, that in Much Ado they are both detached persons,
they have "just growed," precisely as the Lord Gaspare and
the Lady Emilia appear in the Courtyer.

Fourth, that a comparison between the play and the dia-
logue shows remarkable coincidences in character, in action,
in environment, in thought, and in language.

Fifth, that the very vividness of the representation is due
to the fact that Benedick and Beatrice were originally real
persons, the Lord Gaspare Pallavicino and the Lady Emilia
Pia, of II Cortigiano.

MARY AUGUSTA SCOTT.

XVII.— DIAL OG US INTER CORPUS ET ANIMAM:
A FRAGMENT AND A TRANSLATION.

1. MANUSCRIPTS AND EDITIONS.

"The fictitious quarrel," to borrow the thought of Heine,
"which Christianity has cooked up between the body and
the soul " formed in mediaeval times a literary motif which
attained to considerable popularity among both authors and
readers. The single Latin poem, for example, with which
we are here alone concerned, and the authorship of which has
long been one of the debatable questions of literary history,
has come down to us in at least fifteen manuscripts, and
doubtless others will come to light. Of these MSS. Wright,
in The Latin Poems Commonly Attributed to Walter Mopes,
London, 1841, p. 95, mentions ten, as follows : 1) Harl. 978
fol. 88 v° ; 2) Harl. 2851 [fol. omitted] ; 3) Cott. Titus A
xx. fol. 163 r°; 4) Cott. Calig. A xi. fol. 164 v° ; 5) Roy.
8 B vi. fol. 18 v° ; 6) Camb. Ee vi. 29 art. 1 ; 7) Corp. Chr.
Coll. 481; 8) Bodl. 110 (Bern. 1963); 9) Douce 54 fol. 36
v° ; 10) Univ. Coll. B 14. Wright also refers to the edition
of Th. von Karajan (Fruhlingsgabe fur Frewn.de dlterer Litera-
tur, Wien, 1839, pp. 85-98) from MS. 3121 (formerly Historia
Profana 279) in the Wiener Hof bibliothek.1 Three MSS. are
mentioned by Du Me>il in his Poesies populaires latines
anterieures au douzieme siecle, p. 217 : 1) Bibl. roy., fonds
du Saint- Victor 472 fol. 289 r° ; 2) Bibl. de Bruxelles 4363,
unpaged; 3) Bibl. Mazarine 438, unpaged. Lastly, the

1At the end of his Latin text von Karajan speaks of two other MSS.
which Hoffmann von Fallersleben had mentioned to him too late to be
of use in this edition, and says : "Ich .... will die Au&beute seiner Nachwei-
gungen, wenn mir erst Abschriflen jener Aufzeichnungen werden zugekommen sein,
bei ndchster Gelegenheit vero/enllichen." I have been unable to find out
whether these notes were ever published, and should be glad if anyone
could tell me.

503

504 CLARK SUTHERLAND NORTHUP.

fifteenth MS., containing the fragment which is printed below,
is now in the President White Library of Cornell University,
and may conveniently be called the White MS.

This manuscript, from which nothing, so far as is known,
has hitherto been published, is a parchment dating probably
from the first half of the fourteenth century,1 and consisting
of two detached leaves or four pages, 24.5 x 18.5 centimeters
in size, written throughout in one hand. The contents of
these pages are as follows :

1. The first eleven lines of fol. 1 r° belong in substance
with four preceding pages from which the present four were
separated before the MS. came to Cornell, and which con-
tained, according to the description of a former owner, Dr.
Gerhard Hennen, of Trier, from whom it passed into the
possession of the President White Library, short chapters on
medical and hygienic topics, as, for example, utilitatis et nocu-
mentum balnei ; nocumentum frigidi balnei ; quibus eonveniat
balneum ante cibum; de usu coitus; de gaudio et timore; de
cibariis non competentibus multum; de febribus ; de potu;
laudes et bonitates vini ; de horis comedendi.

2. A discussion, filling twenty-five lines of fol. 1 r° and
eight lines of fol. 1 v°, beginning : Hsec sunt vertutes syrupi
extracti de serpente ; and ending : Explicit syrupus serpentinus.

3. A description, in eight hexameter lines, of the four
temperaments, beginning : Largus amans hylaris ridens
rubeique coloris ; and ending : non expers fraudis timidus
lutei que coloris. Fol. 1 v°.

4. A fragment of the poem Dialogus inter Corpus et
Animam, including, according to the line-numbering of
Wright, 11. 1-25, 155-288, and filling the remaining four-
teen lines of fol. 1 v02 and all of fol. 2. This is printed
below.

1 Dr. Hennen, of Trier, dates it about 1325-1340.

2Also, on the right margin of fol. 1 v°, in a somewhat later hand, are the
following words : Benedictus rex glorie qui tue memorie dedisti nobis
signaculum et cetera id est sacramentum | Sumunt boni sumunt mali sacra-

DIALOGUS INTER CORPUS ET ANIMAM. 505

Of printed editions of the Dialogus, there are at least four,
as follows :

1. That of Christian von Stokken, Hamburg, 1669, now
apparently a very rare book. Von Karajan could find no
copy in Vienna in 1839.1 -Wright had not seen the book;
Du Meril refers to it,2 but since he does not further allude to
it, he probably copied the title from von Karajan. The
British Museum Library did not possess a copy in 1882,
although it did possess von Stokken's Disputatio de virga
Aaronis florida, ex Numer. cap. xvn, Wittenberg, 1685. I
have searched in vain through many printed and some
manuscript catalogues of libraries, and am therefore inclined
to believe that besides the copy in the President White
Library at Cornell, which Professor Burr picked up in
Cologne, there are not many in existence. The book is a
small quarto, bearing on the title-page the following :

ANIM^E DAMNAT.3E | LAMENTA ET | TOBMENTA, | Rhythmis HO

An idea of the contents of the Prolegomena may be gained
from the chapter headings :

mentum, pariter signo quidem in equali et cetera 0s tangis signi specie et
cetera \ Fixum crucis patibulo pro redimendo populo nuwc a nobis assumitur
corpus dum signurn editur et cetera j . . . . Of the rest a part of the follow-
ing line can be seen, but so much has been cut away as to make it illegible.
It will be observed that the above is in part metrical. Its source I am as
yet unable to determine. On the use of the character 0 cp. Hagen, in his
facsimile of Cod. Bern. 363, Lugduni Batavorum, 1897, p. xxviii. ; and the
modern use of the sign by astronomers to indicate the sun.

1 Fruhlingsgabe, p. 164.

2 Poesies pop. lat. ant. au xne si^cle, p. 219, bibl. note.

506 CLARK SUTHERLAND NORTHUP.

1. Poeseos Rhythmicce Origo ex Sixt. Sen. Bibl Sacr. Lib. III. 2. Teutones
non Latinis, sed hi illis Rhythmos debent. 3. Authores Mantissa. 4. Argu-
mentum Querelce Dialogisticce Ex Augustino Serm. XLVIII. ad Fratres in Eremo
Tom. X. 5. Scopus Querelce Dialogisticce, Historid Fuiconis divitis explicatus,
ex Drexel. Consider. V. JEternil, Tom. I. Oper. p. 18. 6. Tnhalt des klaglichen
Seelen-Gespr ticks \ In einer Betrachtung iiber des Cresus Orabe vorgestellet \ Aus
des Herrn von Serre siiesen Todes-Gedancken. \ cap. VI, 104. folg. 7. Ursach
Warum auch fremde Zeugnissen am Rande mil sind angefiihret worden. Aus
des Petr. Mol. B. vom Erkentnias Gottes \ fast am Ende.

The Latin text is printed in six-syllable lines and is
accompanied by a German metrical translation, as well as
by many illustrative quotations — annotationibus Theologicis,
Philosophicis, & Philologicis — from Latin and German litera-
ture. In addition to the Dialogus the book contains also,
" mantissce loco" Devota extremi judicii MEDITATIO Autore
quidem vetusto, ineerto tamen [Dies irce] and Rhythmi Hilde-
berti De Sacro-sanctd Trinitate.

In his Prcefatio von Stokken says that he took the Dialogus
from a programme printed at Hamburg in 1638 and bearing
this title :

Querela DialogisticaAnimce^& Corporis \ damnati, \ Pro peccatorum cordibus
ad Pcenitentiam excitandis, \ Anonymo quodam \ Author e. \ Nisi Posnitentiam
egeritis, omnes simul peribitis, &c. \ Memorare novissima tua, & in ceternum
non | peccabis.

Whether the Dialogus MS. from which the text in this
programme was printed is still in existence, is not known.
There is no reason, however, to suppose that even von
Stokken ever saw it. He did not follow even his printed
original with fidelity, but made some eighteen or twenty
changes, a list of which, however, he is careful to give. In
order to facilitate further study of the subject, I have
thought it desirable to describe von Stokken's text by giving
a list of its variations from Wright's text, with which it
would appear to have the greatest affinity (and at the end,
from Du MeriFs). These follow :

DIAI.OGUS INTER CORPUS ET ANIMAM. 507

2 somno spiritali ; 5 Cum dormirem 6 nuper qui egressus 8 Corporis
cum gemitn planxerat 9 Anima stetit 10 Illud & cum gemitu haec [in
original sic] interrogavit : 11 Corpus 6 miserrimum 12 Quod sat heri
prosper^ vana Sors 13 mundus pridie tibi 15 Ubi nunc familia, 16 tua
florida tandem [in original jam nunc] 17 petris de 18 palatiis 19 Nunc
delatum feretro 20 Jaces & in tumulo breviore 21 Tibi quid palatia
prosunt, 22 tuos capit 23 Quenquam falso judicans postmodum [in
original amodo] 24 Per te data nobis est 25 Ego, inquam, Anima, nobilis
27 Caro tu miserrima mecum es damnata 28 Scires si supplicia nobis
praeparata, 29 VerS posses dicere; heu ! cur fui nata? 30 Utinam ad
tumulum essem mox translata! 31-33 in part condensed above; the rest
lacking 35 bend facere 36 Sed omitted; Semper me ad 38 Poenis in
acerrimis 39 Nullae linguae seculi dicerent 40 Ullam poenam 41 Sed
quod magis doleo, veniam non 43 Celsa vel 45 quam tu plus 46 Ubi
lecti strati sunt fulgidi 47 Vestis mutatoria 48 placidi saporis? 49
Vasa, mensae, gausape 50 Ubi inodo volucres, caro vel 51 Vel murenae
nobiles, vel electa vina? 52 Non agnorum gregibus redolet coquina:
53 lacking 56 Ejus nonn£ 57 Jam clauduntur oculi, 58 Nihil tibi
superest, quod jam 59 Quicquid dudum miserd 61 Varia per tempora
magno cum 62 rapit rnors, summo cum pudore. 63 Modo non 65
Rapitur cujuslibet 66 Cessat & tristitia tuse jam 67 lacking 68 post-
modum non 69 Quoniam te mortuo manent Bacchus, Ceres, 70 Et
thesauri copia, pro qua poenas feres, 71 Mortem tuam breviter tuus
plangit haeres. 72 Dubito, an mulier 75 Poenis his eximerent, 76 Jam
scis Caro misera, quam sit male 77 Mundi nequam Gloria, 78 Plenior
doloribus, vitiis 81 duo vix 83 nulla dant tributa. 84 lacking 85
Quamvis nondum sentias hie 86 Scias, quod suppliciis non sis 88 Quod
tormenta postmodum mecum sis 89 Rodunt te in tumu!6 vermes &
putredo, 90 Qui non eras pauperum Pater, verum praedo, 91 Tecum diu
nequeo stare, sed 92 Nee te ad opposita responsurum 93 Anima talia
94 Sese corpus erigit, 96 Quaerit, quis locutus hie talia 97 TunS meus
Spiritus ades, qui sic faris? 98 Vera non sunt omnia quae tu loquebaris,
[a good guess, cp. 1. 97 in W. ; in original quae causaris] 100 Licet quaedam
vera sint, plurima 101 Mihi tribnis, quod te vidimus peccantem, [in
original Feci te multoties in multis errare] 102 Et virtutis semitam saepe
declinantem, 103 Carnis culpa minor est, (moneo errantem) [m original
Sed si caro faciat animum errare,] 104 Major culpa spiritus, audias
probantem. 105 Daemonium foedus pepigere, 106 Carnem hi miserrimam
secura conjunxere, 107 Quam si rigor Animi cesset coercere, 108 In
peccati foveam cadunt ambo vere. 109 lacking 110 Sed ut mihi dixeras,
111 Raram, bonam, nobilem, sensu te ditavit, 113 et omitted 114 condita
fuisti, 115 Atque data ratio, 116 mihi cursavisti? 117 Rebus in 118
Estne ju^tum, carnem ut Animam 119 sinit ancillari? 120 Corpus hoc
per 123 Ejus adminicu!6 124 Caro (si per Spiritum hsec non sustentatur)
[in original Caro quae per spiritum non suppeditatur,] 125 Mundi per

508 CLARK SUTHERLAND NORTHUP.

127 Carni sine Spiritu nihil innotescit; 128 Si, quod jubes, exequor,
culpa tibi crescit, 129 Cato [=Caro] sine Spiritu mortua quiescit. 130 Si
ad opus Spiritus votum deducatur, 131 Carnem per pedisscquam, caro quid
culpatur? 132 per quam imperatur, 133 Id quod 134 Came quidem
gravius tu peccasti, crede, 136 mea viscera 138 Adhuc dixit Anima:
tecum 139 Tua, quantum potero, dicta refrenare : 140 Quare [in origi-
nal ut quid (ad quid)] mihi 142 Caro tu miserrima vivens quse 143 Stulta,
vana, frivola; 144 asperrima, quse nunc 146 Istud enim consonum 147
Kestitisse debui 148 Tua sed 149 Nugis mundi dedita 150 lacking
151 Nam te quando volui, 152 Verbere, vigiliis, fame te 153 crepit
effrenare, 154 Et coegit ssepius frivolis vacare. 155 Ita tu dominium in
me accepisti, 156 Perditrix domestica mihi [in original de me] sic 157
Mundi per blanditias prius me 158 In peccati puteum tandem me misisti.
159 Sed omitted 160 Te cum essem Dominae nunquam 181 Sed tu
me 162 Unde culpa digna es atque prena 163 Mundi si delicias, dolos
machinantis, 164 quia & incantantis 165 astutias, coalo si tonantis 166
essem nunc in sanctis. 167 Verum, cum tripudiis 168 Tibi vitam pros-
peram 169 Quod non mori crederes : at mors hsec 170 Cum te de palatid
ad sepulchrum 172 Suaviter quos excipit, 173 Mortis per rigorem, 174
post divitias 175 Tibi qui dum vixeras, socii 176 Habitantem tumulo
177 coepit statim [in original quasi] 178 Verbis & 181 Oppida construere,
182 Nunquam sane credidi, tumbam hanc 183 Optime nunc video, quod
& satis 184 Nunquam auri 185 Honos, vis, scientia, virtus nee herbarum,
186 stimulum amarum. 187 Ambo quidem possum us crelitus 188 Et
culpamur, fateor, 191 Cujus sensus frigido morbo non gravatur, [in
original same as W.~\ 192 Novit, Jura clamitant, Ratio 193 Cui plus prae
cseteris gratiae 194 Magis hie de debito tandem postulatur. 195 quin &
intellectum, 196 sensum & 197 Quibus caute frangeres fervidum 198
Et amares perpetim id, quod erat 199 florida fuisti, 200 Et tu mihi
fatua 201 Meis & blanditiis minus 202 tu plus 203 Addo : (licet referam
204 Mihi tamen erit hoc argumento claro) [in original quod mihi jam
potens est, argumento] 205 nunquid agit Caro? 206 Num se movet postea
207 Mortua nil loquitur: Illud ergo 208 quod omitted 209 Coali Numen
Animae si fuisset charum, [i?i original Si haberet anima Deum suum cha-
rum, cp. JF.] 211 Si amasses ccelicum Dominum 213 Nee pravorum
hominum adhsesisses 214 Nee me 215 Quae vivebam splendide, sericis
amicta, 216 Ecce quse de omnibus mihi sunt 217 Foster atque caries, Et
haec domus 218 Quibus post delicias mundi sum amicta.! 219 Novi haec
prseterea, quod sim 220 Tempore novissimo tecum dein 221 Poanas mortis
perpetes : heu mors ilia 222 Mors intolerabilis ! 223 voce sub 224 Heu
cur vixi misera 225 Heu ! cur dixit Dominus ? haec sit 226 Nonne Deus
noverat, quod sim 227 Felix est conditio 229 loca 231 deinde loquitur
233 Mihi, quseso, recita, ibi quae 234 de favore [in original same as W.~\
235 Ibi quid nobilibus redditur 236 Quas fortuna fulgidis coluit in 237
Non relicta illis est 238 Tanta pro pecunia 239 tua qusestio 240 Cum

DIALOGUE INTER CORPUS ET ANIMAM. 509

infernum subeunt inferum 241 omitted 242 Redemtione 243 pro EleS-
mosynis, 244 Tota si fidelium pietas 245 Totam si pecuniam mundus
omnis 246 Tota si jejimiis regio 247 nunquam 248 omitted 249 Nullam
Daemon solveret, 250 In inferno Aniinam suis ex 251 Pro centenis
millibus 252 Nee momentum sineret, ut 253 Istud quaeris etiam ibi quid
agatur 254 Viris cum Nobilibus? audi, lex hie 255 quod omitted 257
fortS si damnatur, 258 Gravibus prse cseteris, pcenis implicatur, 258a
Quanto quis deliciis magis delectatur, 258b Tanto poena gravior illi
deputatur. 259 promserat moerores, 261 Nulli quas describere poterant
Scriptores, 262 Omnium nee pingere climatum 263 Ferreos in manibus
stimulos gerentes, 264 Ignern mixtum sulphure 266 Visi sunt ex narribus
cadere 267 omitted 268 Aures erant patulse, 269 Videram [in original &
erant] in frontibus 270 cornuum toxicum 272 cum funiculis 273 Quam
ad fauces Erebi querulam 274 Mox maligni spiritus passim occurrerunt,
275 Qui triumphum asperis dentibus striderunt. 276 Quidam veto [/or
vero] horridis votis 277 Quidam cum corrigiis ipsam perstrinxerunt,
278 Quidam uncis ferreis ipsam discerpserunt, 279 Quidam plumbum
ferreum desuper fuderunt. 280 Quidam fimum stercorum in os 281
Quidam ejus faciem totam perminxerunt, 282 Quidam suis dentibus ipsam
corroserunt, 283 Demum & a corpore pellem detraxerunt. 284-286 partly
omitted, partly condensed above 287 Adhsec dicunt Daemones quasi 289
Passis modo dice re 290 Debes ver6 centuplum 291 Lassa tandem Anima
292 Atque voce tremula 293 barathri limen subintravit, 294 omitted
295 Ejulans insonuit: Jesu! Fili David! 296 Conclamantes Dsemones
responderunt 298 Parum prodest dicere [in original amodo] : 299 nee
requiei. 300 Non videbis postea radios [in original Non tamen de csetero
videbis] diei. 301 Decor jam mutabitur 302 dehinc aciei, 303 Erit
apud inferos hoc solamen ei. 304 omitted 306 Atque raptus extra me
mox [in original & extra me positus mox evigilavi.] 307 Et expansus
manibus Deum acclamavi, 308 eximat ista pcena gravi. 309 Suis mox
<jum frivolis Mundum condemnavi, 310 nihil reputavi,

[With Et me Christi manibus Mum commendavi conclude both Wright's
and von Karajan's texts. From this point on, therefore, are given von
Stokken's variations from Du Me'ril's text. In the latter the line begin-
ning Ecce mundus moritur I mark no. 309*.]

310* fit stultus, 311* Christi cultus, 312* Est in mundo 313* pergit
his diebus 314* Facti Di sunt iterum 316* Sceptris, aciebus 317*
Theologice charitas vocantur, 320* Istis, jam in seculo 321* vultu sis
serenus, 322* Sis benignus, humilis, 323* Hsec nil tibi proderunt, 324*
Sola nam pecunia 326* Varia familia undique stipatus, 327* & morige-
ratus,1 328* meus tu cognatus 2 329* defecerint 330* morte refrigescit,

1The reading of Du Me'ril, morigenatus, is probably inferior, although
morigenalus is found ; cp. Du Cange, Glossarium, s. v. moriginatus.
* Obviously better than ei turn cognatus.
4

510 CLARK SUTHERLAND NORTHUP.

331* Cessat & notitia, Ille me turn nescit, 334* virus 6 amarum ! 336*
Id, quod transit citius flamma quam 337* Mundus si divitibus tria posset
338* Thesaurorum cumulum, tumulum vitare, 340* vellent, credo, terrain
hanc coelo commutare, 341* ista Mors compescit, 342* qui non morti
343* Hie, si vivit hodie, fortS eras 344* Cuique prorsus hominum parcere
jam 345* Quando genus hominum Morti deputatur, 346* Tune ad
certum terminuin homo deportatur ; 347* Contremisce jugiter, dum mens
meditatur : 348* Quid es, & quo properas, quid tibi paratur ? 349* Dum
de morte cogito, tristor atque ploro, 350* Certum est, quod moriar,
tempus at ignoro, 351* Mens prophana dubitat, quorum adsit choro,
352* Ego, jungar ut suis, Deum supplex oro!

[Here ends von Stokken's text, with: Finis scripli: sed ubi es, 0 supplicii
FINIS.]

2. The next printed edition was that of the Ritter Theodor
Georg von Karajan, in his Fruhlingsgabe, pp. 85-98, from
the Vienna MS. (see above), published at Vienna in 1839.
In addition to the text of two Middle High German versions
of the dispute, von Karajan appends a learned and interest-
ing discussion of the various European versions.

3. The edition of Thomas Wright, in the work above
cited, pp. 95-106, from Harl. MS. 978, collated with von
Karajan's printed text. This appeared in London in 1841.
Wright likewise adds several other versions and a bibliogra-
phical note.

4. The edition of M. Edelestand Du Meril, in the work
above cited, pp. 217-230, from the three MSS. which he
mentions (see above), and which he considers much superior
to the Vienna and Harleian MSS.

A critical edition of the Dialogus remains a desideratum.

2. THE WHITE FRAGMENT.

Here follows the text of the White MS.1 Abbreviations
have, as usual, been amplified.

1 For cordial permission to publish this text and for valuable aid of more
than one kind in preparing this paper, I am indebted to my teacher.
Professor George L. Burr, librarian of the President White Library, who
purchased the MS. from Dr. Hennen and brought it to Ithaca.

DIALOG US INTER CORPUS ET ANIMAM. 511

•

JN octis sub silentio tempore brumali • •
Deditus qi^odammodo sompno spiritali
corpus carens videre spiritu vitali *
De quo inichi visio fit sub forma tali *
5 Dormitando paululum vigilando fessits *
Ecce qwidam spiritus nouiter egressws *
De predicto corpore viciis oppressus *
qui carnis cum gemitu sic plangit excessus *
Juxta cor pits spiritus stetit et plorauit •

10 et hiis verbis acriter corpus increpauit *
O caro miserrima qwis te sic prostrauit *
quam mundus te1 tarn prospere prediis ditauit •
nowne tibi przdie mundus subdabatwr •
nonne te prouincia tota verebatur •

15 quo nunc es^ familia que te seqwebatur •
cauda tua te sequens iam nunc amputatur • •
non es nunc in turribits de petris quadratis • •
Sic nee in palacio magne largitatis •
iaces nunc in feretro parue quantitatis *

20 Reponenda tumwlo tibi marmor es^2 satis •
quid valent palacia pulchra uel quid edes *
vix nunc tuus tumulus septem capit pedes •
q?^anqwam falsa iudicas ammocfo non ledes
per te modo misera es£ in inferno sedes

25 ego qwe tarn nobilis fueram [create]. . , .

fol. 2 r° 155 [Et ita dominium de me] suscepisti
farmh'aris proditrix mihique fuisti
per mundi bla[nditias me post te trax]isti
et peccati puteo suauiter mersisti •
Scio me culpabi[lem nam in hoc erraui]

1A. line is drawn through this word ; evidently the word was a scribal
error.

8 Permitted by the sense ; but it obviously spoils the metre.

512 CLARK SUTHERLAND NORTHUP.

•

160 quod cum essem domina te non refrenaui
Sed cum [me] deceperas fraude tam suaui
crede quod deliqweras pena magis graui *
Sed1 [rnunjdi delicias dolos adulantis
despexisses fatua sic et incantantis *

165 de[m]onis blandicias et celi tonantis *
adhesisses rnonitis essemus cum sanctis *
sed cum tibi pn'die mundi quis arrisit *
et viam diutinam firmiter promisit
mori DOS putaueras sed mors hec elisit •

170 quaudo de palacw) tumwlo te misit

hominwm fallencium mundus habet morem •
quos magis amplectitur qui [= cui] dat honorem •
illos falKt ciciws per Decis rigorem •
et dat post delicias vermes et fetorem •

175 qui tibi cum vixeras amici fuere

iacentem in tumwlo uolunt2 te uidere *
corpus hoc intelligens stapit 3 cepit flere *
et verbis simplicibws ita respondere •
Qui uiuendo potui mitltis inperare *

180 aurum num.mos predia gemmas cowgregare

castellas construere gentes iniudicare [= iudicare]
putas ne quod credidi tumulum intrare •
[non ;] sed modo video et est michi claritm
quod nee auri dominus nee diuitiaritm •

185 nee vis nee potencia nee genits preclaritm
mortis poss?^nt fugere tumulum amamm •
ambo dico possumws a christo culpari
quod debemws utiqite sed non culpa pari
Tibi culpa grauior debe^ imputari •
190 nmltis ra^'onibws po^est hoc probari •
a sensato quolibe£ hoc non ignoratur •
tuque scis peroptime liters, testatwr
quod cui maior gracia virtutis donatur •
ab eo vult ratio quod magis exigatwr

1 Read Si. 2 Read nolunt ? 3 For statim, in anticipation of cepit.

DIALOGUS INTER CORPUS ET ANIMAM. 513

195 vitam et meraoriam sic et intellectum •
tibi dedit dominus et sensum periectum •
quibus tu comp[escer]e deberes effectum
prauum • et diligere quidquid erat rectum '
postquam tu virtutibits dotata fuisti

200 et cum fatue mihi pronam te dedisti
meisqwe blandiciis et non resti[ti]sti •
satis patet omnibus quod plus deliquisti •
Corpus dixit iterum corde cum amaro •
Die michi si noueris argumento claro

205 exeunte spiritu. carnem quid sit caro *
mouet se ne sepius postea uel raro •
videt ne uel loquitur non est ergo clarwm
quod spiritus viuificat corpus prodest parum
Si haberei, anima deum suum carum •

210 mwquam caro vinceret vires animamm •
Si deum cum vixeras amasses perfects '
et si causas pauperitm iudicasses recte
Si prauoritm hominum non l adhesisses secte •
non me mundi vanitas decepisse^ nee te •

215 tameu quia fueram tibi viuene ficta •
ea que non respicis mihi sunt relicta
putredo cum vermibits et hec domws stricta •
quibus sum assidue firmiter afflicta •
Scioqwe preterea quod sum surrectura *

220 In die nouissimo tecumqwe passura *

penas que in perpetuum o mors plwsquam dura
fol. 2 v° [mors interminabilis f ]ine caritura

If Ad hoc el a mat anima voce cum obscura •
heu quod vnqitam suberam rerum in natura •

225 cur permisit dominus quod essem creatura
Sua cum prenouerat quod essem peritura
O felix condicio pecorum brutorum •

1 So also Wright ; the better reading Nee prauorum hominum adhesisses is
found in Du Me"r. and v. Kar. Cp. v. Stokken.

514 CLARK SUTHERLAND NORTHUP.

cadu[n]t cum corporibus spiritus eorum
nee post mortem subeunt loca tormentorum

230 Talis esset vtinam finis impiorwm

T Corpus adhuc loquitur anime tam tristi *
Si [tu] apud inferos anima fuisti •
die michi te deprecor quid ibi vidisti •
que spes sit miser is l de dulcore christi '

235 Die si quid uobilibus precatur personis *
ilKs qm dum vixerant sedebant in tronis *
Si sit illis aliqua spes redemptions
pro nummis uel prediis ceteris que donis
If O corpus hec questio care£ ratione

240 que semel intrant baratrum quecunque persone
mortales subaudias pro transgressione *
non es spes ulteriws per redempcione •
nee per elemosinas nee oraciowe •
Si tota deuocio fidelium oraret *

245 Si tota religio ieiuniis vacare£ •
• . Si mimdus pecuniam totam suam dare^ •
In infernum positum numquam liberaretf *
quia dei gracia quamuis illic care^ •
non dare£ dya6olits ferus et effrenis *

250 vnam entem awimam in suis cathenis •
pro totius secitli prediis terrenis *
nee quaudoque sineret quod carere^ penis *
Ad hoc quod wterrogas si aliquid precatur
personis nob^libws non lex quoque datur •

255 quod in tan to quis secwlo magis exaltatitr
Tanto cadit grauiws si trawsgrediatur •
Diues ergo moriens qiti viuws sublimatur •
grauius pre ceteris penis implicate
postquaw tales anima dixisse^ merores *

260 Ecce duo demones pice nigriores •

quorum turpitudines totius scriptores *

JThe scribe probably intended miserrimis but failed to write it. Wr.
and v. Kar. both have si qua spes; Du Me'r. has si quidquid sit.

DIALOGUS INTER CORPUS ET ANIMAM. 515

mundi • non describerent nee pingerent pictores •
ferreas fustinidas inanibws ferentes
ignem sulphureum • per os emitte?ites *

265 Similes ligonibw/s sunt eorum denies *
Ex eorwm naribws prodeunt serpentes *
sunt eorum oculi vt pelues ardentes •
Suis sunt in frontibws cornua gerentes •
per exfa-ema cornuum venena fundentes *

270 aures habent patulas sanie fluentes *
Digitorwm vDgule vt aprorwm dentes *
Isti cum fustinwlis animam ceperunt *
quam mox apud inferos inpetu traxerunt •
quibws iam dyaboli paruuli occurrerunt •

275 qui pro tanto socio gaudium fecerunt •
et illi cum talibws ludis applauserunt •
Quidam vincwlis ferreis ventrem ligauenent
nodatis corrigiis earn ceciderunt •
quidam os stercoribws suis impleuerunt •

280 quidam plumbum feruidum l intro proiecerunt •
et in eius ocitlis qitidam commixerunt *
quidam suis dentibws frontem corroserunt
quidam suis ungidis latera ruperunt •
quidam suis cornubws earn compunxerunt

285 et a toto corpora pellem abstraxerunt •
post hec dicunt demones fere fatigati *
hii qui nobis seruiunt sic sunt honorati •
nundum

3. A TRANSLATION OF THE POEM.

The following translation is based on the text of Du
M6ril, which is the fullest and most correct of the four
printed texts and probably represents the later and com-
pleter form of the poem. In general I have tried to make

1The scribe first wrote ferreum, then drew a line through it.

516 CLARK SUTHERLAND NORTHUP.

the translation interpretative rather than literal. The ordi-
nary numerals refer to the lines of Du M6ril's text ; the
starred numerals refer roughly to the lines of Wright's text.

Long ago there was a certain man, a recluse, Fulbert, born
a Frenchman, whose fair life, while he lived in the world,
was thus spent apart ; and verily the words he spake were
words of wisdom. He was, indeed, a king's son, who for the
whole space of his earthly life withdrew himself from the
evils of the world. And this was the vision which appeared
to him.

10 " In the stillness of a winter's night, while little devoted
to sleep, with spiritual sight I beheld a body bereft of the
breath of life, of whom the following vision was granted me.
While I was sleeping a little, weary with vigils, lo, a soul,
lately come out of the body I have spoken of, weighed down
by sins, with groans was bewailing the vile deeds of the

10* body. Near the latter it stood, weeping, and with these
words bitterly upbraided the body :

" ' Oh, wretched Flesh, who hath brought thee thus low —

20 thee, whom the world enriched with so many estates ? But
yesterday did not the world lie beneath thy feet ? Did not
the whole province stand in awe of thee ? Where now is the
troop of slaves that followed at thy heels ? Thy nourishing
tail, is it not now cut off? Thou art not now in castles of
squared stone, nor in splendid palaces ; thou who, borne

20* away on a small bier, now liest in a tomb full narrow. Of

30 what avail are thy palaces, or thy temples ? Thy grave now
takes in scarce seven feet. The man whom thou didst
unjustly condemn thou wilt now harm no more. Through
thee a dwelling has been given us in hell. I, who was
created so noble, in the likeness of the Lord, and destined to
bring forth good fruit with thee, — I am sore disfigured by
thy crimes. Oh, accursed flesh ! with me thou art damned.
If thou knewest the torments that have been made ready for

40 us, truly thou couldst say, Alas! why was I born? Would

DIALOGUS INTER CORPUS ET ANIMAM. 517

that I had been borne at once to the grave ! It is not strange,
I grant, that while thoti wast alive thou wouldst let me do
nothing good, but didst ever tempt me to the basest crimes,
for which we shall dwell in grief forever. In the sharpest
pains I am and ever shall remain. Not a tongue in all the

40* world could describe the least single one of the torments
which unhappy I endure ; yet however much I sorrow, I can
hope for no forgiveness.

" ' Where are now the estates which thou hast got together,

50 or the lofty palaces and castles which thou hast built, or the
rings begemmed which have adorned thy fingers, or the hoard
of gold which thou hast too greatly loved ? Where are thy
rich beds, inviting to calm sleep, thy changes of richly colored
robes, thy toothsome spices, thy cups, thy table, thy garments

50* of snowy whiteness? Where, pray, are thy birds, or thy
choice wines, or thy noble fish ponds, or thy deer ? Not of

60 swans, not of cranes doth thy kitchen now savor ; thou art
now the food of worms — this is heaven's law. How does
thy house now please thee? Doth not its peak lie above
thy nose ? No member now remains to hoard money ; at last
thine eyes are shut, thy tongue is still. Whatever wealth
according to thy wretched habit thou hast been able with the

60* hard labor of years to amass through craft, fraud, usury, or
fear of thy harsh rule, all this the destiny of a single hour
hath swept away. No longer art thou surrounded by bands

70 of thy friends, for by death the flower of thy glory hath
fallen ; every bond of love hath been shattered ; even the
tears of thy wife have now dried. Henceforth hope no more
in thy kinsfolk ; thine heir but a moment grieves over thy

70* death, for to him are still left lands, wine, and goods, and
treasure in abundance, for which thou wilt suffer torture.
Think not that thy wife or thy children would give five acres
of upland or meadow that we, who have now been removed from

80 middle earth, might be redeemed from the pains we must suffer.

" ' Now thou knowest, wretched Flesh, how far from secure

is the worthless glory of the world, how deceitful, how

518 CLARK SUTHERLAND NORTHUP.

bestrewn with afflictions, how polluted with vices, how

80* wretchedly infected with the poison of devils. Thou art
not now clad in costly robes ; thy cloak is worth scarce two
farthings ; thou liest wrapped in a paltry sheet ; not now do
even beggars bring thee tribute. And while thou art now

90 allowed to be free from torture, thou shalt never be released
from punishment ; for the authority of all the prophets testi-
fies that soon thou shalt suffer torments with me. Since thou

90* wast not a father but a robber of the poor, the worms are
now eating thy rotting flesh. But I can not stand here
further; I must now go back. Thou canst not, methinks,
answer these arguments/

"After the soul had spoken these words, at length the body
raised itself as if it had come back to life. After it had

100 uttered many groans it asked who had spoken such words.

" ' Is it thou, my Soul/ it said, ' who speakest thus ? Not
wholly true are -the things thou chatterest ; for I shall prove

100* more fully, with clear arguments, that though some things
may be true, on many points thou speakest nonsense. Many
times, I grant, have I made thee to stray from the path of
good deeds. But if the body causes the soul to err, the
greater is the fault of the soul. Listen and I will tell
thee why.

110 "'The world and the devil have made a pact and 'have
leagued with them wretched flesh ; l now if the energy of the

1 The same idea is similarly expressed by Peter of Blois, archdeacon of
Bath, in his Cantilena de Lucia Carnis et Spiritus, stanza 5 :

Mundus et dsemonium

Fidem sanxere mutuam,
Fraudis ad consortum,
Carnem trahentes fatuam :

Sic per proditorias blanditias
Insidias procurant :

Et in mortem animse miserrimse
Nequissime conjurant.

The complete poem maybe found in Migne, Patrologia, ccvii. cols. 1127-
1130.

DIALOGUS INTER CORPUS ET ANIMAM. 519

soul ceases to hold the flesh in check,1 both in truth fall into
the slough of sin. But, as thou hast just said, God created
thee both good and noble, endowed thee with sense, and at
the same time formed thee in his own likeness, and gave me
to be thy maidservant. Therefore, if thou wast created
mistress, and wast endowed with reason, by which thou

320 shouldst rule us in the world, why didst thou smile upon my
unlawful pleasures and not protest ? Not the body, but the
soul, doth justice condemn, since the 'soul, who should be

120* mistress, allows itself to become the servant. For the soul,
if it would rule as mistress, must vanquish the body through
hunger, thirst, stripes. The body can do nothing without
thesoul, by whose aid it is kept alive. If, therefore, the
body is not held in check by the soul, it soon becomes infatu-
ated with the delights of the world. The body signifies

130 nothing without the soul. From thee whatever I have done
first issued. If I persecute just men, thy fault is the greater.

130* The body without the soul sleeps the sleep of death. If the
will of the soul in action is led by its handmaid the body,
why should the body be blamed ? The fault attaches to the
soul, by whose order is performed whatever the frail body
does in life. After all, he sins the more deeply, I say, and
believe me, who follows the desire of a weak and contempti-
ble body. — But the worms are devouring my flanks here in

140 this abode : what shall I say further ? Yield thee, Soul ! '

" To this the soul replied : ' I will maintain the contest

140* with thee, and, if I can, will reconsider thy words, however
bitterly thou speakest to me, Body, wishing to lay the whole
fault at my door. Oh, wretched Flesh, who living wast
foolish, idle, weak, from whom hast thou learned such bitter
words as those thou hast now used? Nevertheless, in some

150 respects thou didst say truly. It is true, I know, that I
ought to have opposed thy will ; but thy weakness, prone to

1 Here I follow Du Me'ril's suggested emendation, reading coercere, which,
it will be noticed, is the reading of von Stokken's text.

520 CLARK SUTHERLAND NORTHUP.

pleasure, given up to the joys of the world, would not suffer

150* this. When I wished, Body, to subdue thee with the rod, or
with vigils, or with hunger, anon the vanity of the world
began to loose thy bridle and compelled thee to give thyself
up to its worthless trifles. And thus thou didst assume
dominion over me; but thou wast a traitress of mine own
household ; for through the allurements of the world thou

160 didst draw me after thee and plunge me into the delightsome
pit of sin. I know I am to blame ; for in this have I

160* erred, that though I was mistress, I did not check thee. But
when thou didst deceive me with such sweet fraud, I believe
thou didst earn the heavier penalty. If thou, foolish one,
hadst despised the pleasures of the world, the snares of the
Plotter, as well as the cunning of the enchanting Evil Spirit,
and hadst heeded the warnings- of the God of heaven, we
should now be with the saints. But when the fraud of the

170 world smiled upon thee, only a little while before, and surely
promised thee length of days, thou thoughtest not to die ;

!70* but death shattered this hope when he sent thee from the
palace to the grave. The world has the custom of deceptive
men : those whom it the more fondly embraces, on whom it
showers the more honors, them it traps the more speedily
through the rigor of the law, and after delights it gives
them worms and stench. Those who were friends in thy
lifetime refuse to look upon thee lying in the grave/

180 " On hearing this the body at once began to weep, and in
humble words replied thus :

180* " ' I, who in life could command thousands, could heap
together gold, gems, estates, money, could build castles, could
administer laws to nations, dost thou believe I ever thought
to enter the tomb ? No ; but now I see, and it is clear to
me, that neither the possessor of gold or riches, nor might,
nor power, nor lordly race can escape the bitter tomb.

190 " ' We are both worthy to be condemned by God, and both
ought to be, but not with equal blame. The greater fault

190* should be ascribed to thee: this can be proved with many

DIALOGUS INTER CORPUS ET ANIMAM. 521

reasons. No sensible man ignores the fact, attested alike by
law and by reason, that from him who is endowed with the
greatest wealth of powers the most wisdom is to be demanded.
The Lord endowed thee not only with life and memory,
but also with intellect and complete sense; with these thou

200 shouldest have held in check thy depraved affections, and
straightened that which was crooked. Since thou wast

200* adorned with so many virtues, and yet foolishly gavest thy-
self over to me and too feebly resisted my blandishments, it
is clear enough to all that thou wast all the more at fault.
Moreover, — and I am now allowed to speak with a sad heart
of what, at length disclosed to me, is a clear argument, —
when the soul has left the body, what is the body ? Does it
move itself afterward either forthwith or seldom? Does

210 it see, or does it speak ? This is therefore plain : the soul
gives life, while the body has little strength. And if the

210* soul held its God dear, the body would never overcome
the powers of the soul. If while living thou hadst loved God
perfectly, and if thou hadst judged the lawsuits of the poor
with justice, and not clung to the life of evil men, the vanity
of the world had deceived neither me nor thee. I, who
lived clad in splendid silks, behold, what there is left me of

220 it all : rottenness, with worms and this narrow house, to
which I am doomed after the delights of the world ! And I

220* know, moreover, that I shall arise with thee at the last day,
and shall with thee suffer eternal death ; alas ! grievous is
that death, interminable, knowing no end ! '

" To this replied the soul in a choking voice : 'Alas, that
ever I lived in the realm of nature ! Why did the Lord
allow me to be created, since I was marked out to perish ?

230 Oh, blessed condition of the brute beasts ! For with their
bodies die also their souls, nor after death do they pass to

230* the place of torments. Would that such were the end of the
wicked ! '

"The body now spake to the sad soiil: 'If thou wast
among the dead, Soul, tell me, I pray thee, what sawest thou

522 CLARK SUTHERLAND NORTHUP.

there? Is there among the wretched ones aught of the
sweetness of Christ? What is there prepared for the nobles
who, while they lived, sat on thrones ? Have they any hope

240 of redemption on account of their money, their estates, their
other goods ? '

240* " t Thy question, Body, is without sense. When the damned
enter the country of the dead, there is no further hope of
redemption, either through alms or through prayer. If all
the pious faithful should pray forever, and should give them-
selves up to perpetual fasting, if the world should lay down
all its wealth, never would it free one placed in hell. The
250, 250* Devil, fierce and ungoverned, would not give up a single soul
bound in his chains for a hundred thousand earthly estates,
nor would he allow it a moment's respite from punishment.
"'Dost thou ask what is prepared there for persons of
noble rank ? This is the law : the more one is exalted in the
world, the greater is that man's fall if he sin. The rich man
dying, therefore, if he is damned, is visited with grievous
pains far beyond other men ; for the greater was his delight

260 in worldly joys, the more severe the penalty meted out
to him.7

260* "After the soul had uttered these bitter words, behold, two
devils blacker than pitch, whom all the writers in the world
could not describe fully nor all the painters clearly paint,
bearing in their hands iron goads, from their mouths belching
sulphurous fire, having teeth like grub-axes, from whose
nostrils snakes seemed to dart, whose eyes were like lavers of

270 fire, whose huge ears were flowing with gore, and who bore

270* on their brows horns which poured forth poison from the
tips — these devils seized the soul with tongs and bore it
groaning with them to hell. Soon malignant demons rushed
up on all sides and as they danced around gnashed their teeth
at it ; and while they were mocking it in this wise, some
bound it tightly with leather thongs, some tore it on iron
280, 280* hooks, some poured melted lead into it, some threw in fetid
dung, some emptied their own bowels into its face, some

DIALOGUS INTER CORPUS ET ANIMAM. 523

gnawed it with their teeth, and finally they tore the skin from
the body. At length, when they had tired, the demons said
to the soul :

" ' Thus are those in our service chastised. Thou couldst

290* now speak as did the toad to the harrow; but thou shalt
suffer a hundred fold worse torments than these/

290 "A little after this the soul groaned and in feeble tones
murmured, as it passed the threshold of the pit, and he to
whom praise resounded was < Jesus, son of David ! '
" But the demons with loud clamoring replied :
'* ' Too late dost thou call upon the name of thy God ;
little avails now thy Lord, have mercy on me ! ; no further

300* hope hast thou of pardon or of rest. Thou shalt never see
the light of another day. The grace of thy figure shall be
transformed. Henceforward thou shalt be joined to our

300 ranks ; for thus are the damned consoled in the world of
hell.'

" When I had seen these things, in my sleep, I became
greatly terrified and, carried out of myself, I forthwith
awoke ; and uplifting my hands, I cried out to God, praying
that He would protect me from a punishment so terrible.

310* And I put away the world with its empty trifles ; gold, gems,
and estates I counted worthless; I renounced all transitory
things ; and I commended myself wholly to the hands of
Christ.

"Lo,1 the world is dead; it is buried in sin; the right

310 ordering of life has been overturned ; the wise man is a fool ;
Justice is an exile ; the worship of God has ceased ; pain and
strife are ever in the world. In these days the earth is com-
ing to its end; Jupiter and Phoebus are again worshipped;
for whoever has money and abounds in wealth, he is
worshipped as Christ, and is sheltered behind armies. And
the divine virtues of faith, hope, and charity are almost

1 The next section, 11. 309-360, is found, in the printed editions, only in
von Stokken and Du Me"ril ; it is probably a late addition to the poem,
tacked on by a pious monk for whom the times were out of joint.

524 CLARK SUTHERLAND NORTHUP.

320 choked up ; deceit and avarice and their offspring, at length
rule throughout the earth.

" If thou be of noble family and calm in demeanor, kindly
and humble, and have had the best of breeding, these things
shall avail thee nought if thou art in want, for only wealth
gives position and family. If only I be clad in splendid robes,
and be surrounded by a multitude of servants, I am prudent
and clever and affable ; I am thy favorite and thy kinsman.1

330 When these things disappear, at once vanishes our relations,
love grows cold, recognition ceases ; he now knows me not,
who while I was rich, rose obsequiously to give place to me.
Oh, marvelous vanity ! Oh, deplorable love of wealth ! Oh,
bitter poison ! Why dost thou slaughter so many noble men,
by making dear to them that which vanishes more quickly
than a blaze of tow? If wealth could give the rich three
things, the bloom of youth, escape from death, and issue fair

340 and long-lived, then the rich might well amass wealth. But
think, wretched man ! Death fetters all ; what, from the
beginning of the world, hath not yielded to death ? He who
lives to-day, to-morrow perchance rots in his grave ; death
knows not how to spare any man.

" When the roof of the house lies above the nose, then the
whole joy of the world is as pleasing as the mire. Not then
has one leisure for trifles or sports ; then truth appears, and
deceit is utterly silent. Then craft is not deemed prudence,

350 nor is the will of the rich irian then law ; then every one is
rewarded according to his deserts, since the race of men is
doomed to death.

"No one knows whither he goes after death, wherefore
every wise man speaks thus of himself:

"'I tremble continually when my mind ponders what I
am, and whither I hasten, and what is prepared for me.
When I think upon death, I become sad and weep ; one [the
first] thing is that I shall die, but the time [the second

1 Von Stokken's text is possibly better here : " and thou my kinsman."

DIALOGUS INTER CORPUS ET ANIMAM. 525

thing] I know not; the third thing is that I know not to
360 what company I shall be joined ; but I pray that I may be
added to the people of God. Amen/ "

Through l Moses learn of the law, through Elijah learn
of the prophets; the former was a law-giver, the latter a
prophet. By their sayings, if thou understandest the sacred
words, are taught the passion, the resurrection, the glory of
Christ. The rich hath brought the poor, and the vine which
was cultivated at divers times hath borne fruit. Those the
first hour holds; these, the third; the sixth hour, those
following ; the ninth, the new ones ; the last hour, the others ;
the first, the milk of infancy ; the third, down on the cheek ;
370 the sixth, sense; the ninth, gray hairs; the last, quivering.

CLARK SUTHERLAND NORTHUP.

1 The last ten lines of Du MeVil's text do not appear in any of the other
printed editions, and Du Me'ril remarks that they are not found even in
the Brussels MS. Written in a different metre, they clearly have no organic
connection even with 11. 309-360, to say nothing of the main part of the
Dialogus; to which, I am inclined to think, it was never intended that
they should be attached.
5

APPENDIX.

PROCEEDINGS OF THE EIGHTEENTH ANNUAL
MEETING OF THE MODERN LANGUAGE
ASSOCIATION OF AMERICA, HELD
AT THE UNIVERSITY OF PENN-
SYLVANIA, PHILADELPHIA,
PA., DECEMBER 27,
28, 29, 1900.

THE MODERN LANGUAGE ASSOCIATION
OF AMERICA.

The eighteenth annual meeting of the MODERN LAN-
GUAGE ASSOCIATION OF AMERICA was held at the University
of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia, Pa., December 27, 28, 29,
1900. This meeting was incorporated in a

" Congress of Philological and Archaeological Societies :

The American Oriental Society, organized 1842.

The American Philological Association, organized 1869,

The Spelling Reform Association, organized 1876.

The Archaeological Institute of America, organized 1879.

The Society of Biblical Literature and Exegesis, organized 1880.

The Modern Language Association of America, organized 1883.

The American Dialect Society, organized 1889."

The entire Congress was held in the rooms of the Uni-
versity of Pennsylvania.

The Societies of the Congress met for the most part sepa-
rately in a series of sessions, except on Thursday, December
27th, when they united in two General Meetings. The pro-
gramme of these General Meetings was as follows :

Thursday, December 27, 2.30 p. m.

Provost C. C. HARBISON, University of Pennsylvania.
Address of Welcome.

Professor GEORGE F. MOORE, Andover Theological Seminary.
" Some Oriental Sources of the Alexander Myth."

President B. I. WHEELER, University of California.
11 What is the Cause of Phonetic Uniformity ? "

Professor J. K. S. STERRETT, Amherst College.

" A Kuined Seljuk Khan compared with Anatolian Khans of to-day.

iii

IV MODERN LANGUAGE ASSOCIATION.

Professor F. A. MARCH, Lafayette College.

"A Survey of the Growth of Modern Language Work in America."

Professor GEORGE HEMPL, University of Michigan.
" Calling to Cows."

Professor PAUL HAUPT, Johns Hopkins University.
" Suggestions for Future Oriental Congresses."

Professor BRANDER MATTHEWS, Columbia University.
" The Importance of the Folk-Theatre."

Professor ALLAN MARQUAND, Princeton University.

"The Morgan Collection of Gold Objects recently presented to the
Metropolitan Museum."

Thursday, December 27, 8.30 p. m.

Professor BASIL L. GILDERSLEEVE, Johns Hopkins University.

Address: "Oscillations and Nutations of Philological Studies."

PIBST SESSION, THURSDAY, DECEMBER 27.

The first regular session of the eighteenth annual meeting
of the Association began at 10 o'clock a. m., Thursday,
December 27. Professor Thomas K. Price, the President of
the Association, presided.

The Secretary of the Association, Professor James W.
Bright, submitted the following report, which was accepted by
vote of the Association :

I beg to submit for approval the fifteenth volume of the
Publications of the Association.

Early in this year (1900), in pursuance of a unanimous
vote of the Executive Council, the Modern Language Asso-
ciation of America was regularly incorporated under the laws
of the State of Maryland. With the assistance of George
Whitelock, Esq., acting as Attorney for the Association, a
Charter was first obtained in the City of Baltimore; this
Charter was then amended by an Act of Assembly at Annapo-
lis, Md., so as to remove local restrictions, and so as to ren-
der the corporate rights of the Association perpetual.

PROCEEDINGS FOB 1900. V

The Treasurer of the Association, Professor Herbert E.
Greene, submitted the following report :

RECEIPTS.

Balance on hand, December 26, 1399, $1,295 76

Annual Dues from Members, and receipts
from Subscribing Libraries :—

For the year 1896, . . . $ 9 00
" " " 1897, ... 15 00

" " " 1898, ... 39 00

" " " 1899, ... 119 60
" " " 1900, . . . 1,377 20
" " " 1901, ... 78 10

$1,637 90

Sale of Publications, . . . 21 10

Advertisements, 112 50

Interest on deposits, 28 30

$ 140 80

Total receipts for the year, . . $3,095 56

EXPENDITURES.

Publication of Vol. XV, No. 1, and Reprints, $ 224 51

" " " " " 2, " " 262 37

u « « u 3j « tt 276 04

" " " " 4, " " 339 53

$1,102 45

Contribution to the Furnivall Testimonial, 25 00
Paid George Whitelock, Esq., Attorney,

for legal services in incorporating the

Association, 120 37

Supplies for the Secretary: stationery,

postage, mailing Publications, etc., . 66 69
Supplies for the Treasurer: stationery,

postage, etc., 33 47

The Secretary, 200 00

Expenses of Delegate to the Brinton

Memorial Meeting, .... 4 00

Job Printing, 18 25

Binding a copy of Vol. XIV for Mrs.

Bartlett, 3 50

Bank Discount, 3 81

VI MODERN LANGUAGE ASSOCIATION.

Services of Janitor, 1 00

The Central Division, .... 9 54

$ 485 63

Total expenditures for the year, $1,588 08

Balance on hand, December 26, 1900, 1,507 48

$3,095 56
Balance on hand, December 26, 1900, . . $1,507 48

The President of the Association, Professor Thomas R.
Price, appointed the following committees :

(1) To audit the Treasurer's report: Professors E. S.

Sheldon and James T. Hatfield.

(2) To nominate officers : Professors F. M. Warren, A. R.

Hohlfeld, F. N. Scott, C. G. Dunlap, and M. D.
Learned.

On behalf of the President of the Central Division of the
Association, Professor Charles Bundy Wilson, the President
also announced the following committees to serve for the
Central Division :

(1) To nominate officers : Professors W. H. Carruth, E. P.

Baillot, A. G. Canfield, C. F. McClumpha, and
M. W. Sampson.

(2) To determine place of meeting : Professors Raymond

Weeks, H. Schmidt- Wartenberg, A. R. Hohlfeld,
E. E. Brandon, and George Hempl.

The reading of papers was then begun.

1. " The Home of the Heliand." By Professor Hermann
Collitz, of Bryn Mawr College. [Printed in Publications,
xvi, 123 f.]

This paper was discussed by Professor W. T. Hewitt.

2. "The Problematic Hero in German Fiction." By
Professor A. B. Faust, of Wesleyan University. [Printed in
Publications, xvi, 92 f.]

PEOCEEDING8 FOR 1900. vii

This paper was discussed by Professors F. M. Warren and
A. R. Hohlfeld.

3. "English Influence upon Spanish Literature in the
Early Part of the Nineteenth Century." By Dr. J. D. M.
Ford, of Harvard University. [Printed in Publications, xvi,
453 f.]

4. " The Faire Maide of Bristow. Comedy, 1605." By
Dr. Arthur H. Quinn, of the University of Pennsylvania.

5. "Researches in Experimental Phonetics." By Pro-
fessor E. W. Scripture, of Yale University. [Compare Studies
from the Yale Psychological Laboratory. Vol. vii, 1899.]

(1) The usually accepted theory of the nature of spoken words must be
modified. The mouth-tone characterizing a vowel is not an overtone of the
chord-vibration, but is one that may remain fixed, or may vary indepen-
dently of the chord-tone. (2) The action of the chords consists of a series
of explosive openings, and not of more or less harmonic vibrations. The
vocal apparatus is probably not a reed-pipe but a cushion-pipe. (3) The
chord-tone in a vowel is nearly always changing in pitch from moment to
moment. The mouth-tone frequently remains fixed in pitch, but may
change according to phonetic requirements. (4) A diphthong is an organic
union of two sounds, and not a mere succession of two distinct ones. (5)
Speech-sounds are never twice exactly alike, even with the same speaker.
(6) American speech has some pure long vowels. (7) American speech
has some exaggerated glide-endings that make them resemble diphthongs.
(8) The unity of English verse is the line, or the phrase. A line of verse
cannot be divided into feet, as the curve of speech runs on with vowels,
consonants, and pauses, and there is no regularity of pause-division. (9)
Syllables cannot be classed as long and short. (10) English verse is a flow
of speech-energy with a certain number of maxima and minima of energy
per line.

This paper was discussed by Professors C. H. Grandgent,
J. W. Bright, F. N. Scott, O. F. Emerson, E. B. Davis, and
T. R. Price.

The following motion was then adopted by the Association :

Vlll MODEEN LANGUAGE ASSOCIATION.

" That a committee of one be appointed to represent this Association in
a joint-committee for collecting and preserving records of speech, song,
and similar material in various languages and dialects by means of speech-
recording and speech -transmitting apparatus; and that power to act be
given to the committee, with the restriction that no expense to this Asso-
ciation is to be incurred without its express consent."

Professor E. W. Scripture was appointed to serve the Asso-
ciation in accordance with the terms of this motion.

6. " Some Popular Literary Motives in the Edda and the
Heimskringla." By Professor Gustaf E. Karsten, of the
University of Indiana. £Read by title.]

7. "The Language of Luther's Ein Urteil der Theologen
zu Paris, 1521." By Professor H. Schmidt- Wartenberg, of
the University of Chicago. [Read by title.]

8. " Dialogus inter Corpus et Animam." By Dr. Clark S.
Northup, of Cornell University. [Read by title.] [Printed
in Publications, xvi, 503 f.]

9. " Guiding Principles in the Study of Literature." By
Professor Th. W. Hunt, of Princeton University. [Read by
title.]

SECOND SESSION, FRIDAY, DECEMBER 28.

The second regular session of the meeting was convened
Friday, December 28, at 9.30 a. m. President Thomas R.
Price was in the chair.

The following report of the Committee on International
Correspondence (cf. Proceedings for 1899, pp. xiv-xviii) was
presented by Professor E. H. Magill, Chairman of the
Committee :

Your committee on International Correspondence respectfully presents
the following report :

(1) A pamphlet of fifty -four pages entitled La Correspondance Inter-
Scolaire el les Correspondances Internationales has been published in Tarbes,
.France, by Prof. Paul Mieille, the originator of this system. He quotes

PROCEEDINGS FOB 1900. ix

favorable opinions from French, German, English, and Italian sources,
and shows the rapid progress that the plan has made in these countries
during the past year.

(2) The International Correspondence was very favorably considered by
the "Congres International de ^Instruction Secondaire" at the Paris
Exposition. The very able and exhaustive report on the subject by Mile.
Scott, of the Lyce"e Moliere, was enthusiastically received. The names of
the founders and initiators were heard with applause, and a resolution was
unanimously adopted commending the correspondence to the good will and
care of the different departments of Education in France.

(3) A series of 100 prizes has been offered by Mr. W. T. Stead, of the
London Review of Reviews, for excellence in the department of the Inter-
national Correspondence, thirty for each of the three countries, England,
France, and Germany, and ten for America, these prizes to be awarded by
rules which he has set forth in a circular; and the names of the 100 prize-
winners in the four countries are to appear in the first number of an
Inter-National Correspondence Annual to appear in the three languages,
English, French, and German, next spring.

That this correspondence may have the encouragement and support of
the Modern Language Association, and that our own country may have a
central bureau, as have the other three countries named which are more
especially engaged in the correspondence, your committee have agreed to
recommend to the Association the adoption and distribution among the
teachers of French and German of the following circular letter : —

THE INTERNATIONAL CORRESPONDENCE

FOB STUDENTS AND TEACHERS.

Recognizing the educational value of an exchange of letters by the
students and teachers of the different nations, those interested in the idea
have in the last few years organized several Committees or central Bureaus
for the purpose of promoting the plan and of giving it stability and regularity.

Such central organizations now exist in England, France, Germany, and
Italy. The Modern Language Association of America has appointed a
Committee with a similar purpose in view.

With the generous aid of several influential journals, these committees
now bring, annually, a small army of students and teachers into interesting
personal relations with each other, thereby greatly stimulating interest in
the study of modern languages. The service is, and will remain, a gratui-
tous one, the only expense incurred being that of postage.

METHODS.

The method of entering upon and continuing the correspondence is very
imple. Lists of names are sent to the central committees. At as early a

Xll MODERN LANGUAGE ASSOCIATION.

The first recourse was naturally to the Bibliotheque Nationale. My
previous experience in the the world's most extensive library had been
almost exclusively in the Department of Manuscripts, where the service is
prompt and accommodating ; so that in undertaking to utilize the library's
facilities for studying a present-day question I was not quite prepared for
the delays and disappointments I was destined to encounter. But upon
these I will not dwell further than to say that only after repeated attempts
in the National Library to accomplish my purpose ; only after resorting in
vain to the library of the 8orbonne, the Arsenal and Sainte Genevieve ;
only after personally visiting the bureaus of two recently established biblio-
graphical institutions in Paris ; and only, at last, after myself sending by
post to Brussels, seat of the International Institute of Bibliography, was
I able to procure a copy of the Annuaire de P Institut international de biblio-
graphic pour I'annee 1899. And after all my inquiries in Paris, it was not
until I had received this work from Brussels, that I succeeded in learning
of the existence in Paris, since 1896, of a French section of the Institut
international de Bibliographic, and, since 1899, of a Bureau bibliographique de
Paris. Little by little it had begun to dawn upon me that this curious
difficulty of orienting myself in the burning subject of Bibliography was
at least to some extent due, as the publisher of one of the new biblio-
graphical undertakings frankly avowed to me, to the emulation, not to say
the rivalry, of the various bibliographical enterprises now represented in
Paris.

Two of these I have just named; and to two others I have alluded
above. The latter are, the Bibliotheque des Bibliographies critiques, begun
in the present year, and published under the auspices of the Societe des
Etudes historiques ; and the organization which calls itself, at the head of
the title page of its prospectus, L'Institut de Bibliographic, and, at the foot
of the same, prints : " Paris : Institut International de Bibliographic, 93
Boulevard Saint-Germain."

This last institution is a private business enterprise, claiming anteriority
of date to all the other recent bibliographical movements. Its plan of
operations is so broad and its equipment so extensive that, before passing
to the genuinely international systems of cooperation, I may well begin
here with a brief account of its manifold appliances.

The Inistitut de Bibliographic of the Boulevard Saint-Germain was pro-
jected as early as 1893 by Dr. Marcel Baudoin, of Paris, and has reached a
development and a degree of material prosperity which renders a visit to
the various departments of the establishment highly interesting and instruc-
tive. The Institute is a joint-stock company with a capital of 350,000
francs, and is installed in central quarters near the great schools of Paris.
On January 1, 1900, it became the publisher of the monthly Bibliographia
Medica, a continuation of the American Index Medicus, which, for reasons
unknown to me, ceased to appear about the middle of the year 1899.

PROCEEDINGS FOB 1900. xiii

In theory at least, and to a limited extent in fact, the outfit of the Insti-
tute is ideally complete. The entire resources of the place are at the
disposal of all applicants, in consideration of a lump-sum general subscrip-
tion, or of a series of partial payments. These resources consist of:

I. A (so-called) Universal Bibliographical Repertory, composed of a
classified bibliographical card catalogue. The cards or slips (French,
fiches) of this branch of the service are distributed in packages by mail to
subscribers, in France or in foreign countries, at the rate of one cent a
card, plus the annual subscription of two dollars for France (four dollars
for other countries). Subscribers wishing to be notified monthly of every-
thing currently published on a given subject, may be supplied by sub-
scribing to the regular service.

II. An Analytical Repertory, consisting of

(a) slips giving a brief analysis of books and articles on a given subject ;
(6) slips giving the bibliographical indication of the analyses of books
and articles on the subject in question that have appeared in periodicals ;
and (c) a repertory of clippings from periodicals.

III. A collection of documents, consisting of photographs and other
illustrations, lantern slides, plans, maps, translations, copies, etc., which
may be subscribed for in the same manner as the preceding.

IV. A general Circulating Library, the volumes of which are delivered
in foreign countries as well as in France.

The general subscription to all these departments combined is ten dollars
a year, plus the tariff charged for the individual loans.

As a matter of fact, the equipment of the Paris Institute of Bibliography,
in its present stage of development, is chiefly available to the members of
the medical profession, but is by no means restricted to this branch of
knowledge. On the other hand, the Bibliotheque de bibliographies critiques,
mentioned above, consists of a series of pamphlets, each devoted to a dis-
tinct topic in history, literature, sociology, or art, averaging in price about
one franc each. Of these, some half a dozen numbers have already
appeared, and seventy -five or eighty are announced as in preparation, at
the hand of competent specialists.

Thus it will appear that there are already in operation in Paris two
extensive bibliographical enterprises, one of them, at least, offering in
theory to its subscribers almost every conceivable bibliographical facility.
No one, however, who is at all familiar with the stupendous problem of
universal bibliography will for a moment imagine that such institutions
are in a position to cope with the vast contemporary output of scientific
and literary productiveness.

It is precisely this tremendous world- problem that is held in view by the
International Institute of Bibliography (Inslitut International de Biblio-
graphic), established with headquarters in Brussels, as the outcome of an
international conference held in that city in 1895. The ramifications of
this organization have already become so wide-spread that its Annuaire

XIV MODERN LANGUAGE ASSOCIATION.

for 1899, which is scarcely more tlatfh a prospectus of the work in progress,
fills 119 pages, and should be reatT by anyone wishing to be informed of
the present status of bibliographical endeavor. It may be had for two
francs, by addressing the Institut International de Bibliographic, No. 1
rue du Muse"e, Brussels, Belgium. Only a few words here as to the
general working of the institution. In the first place, cooperation is
sought in all parts of the world, on the basis of the Decimal system of
classification originally devised by Melvil Dewey in America. In a sense
both the strength and the weakness of the entire scheme may be said to
centre in this much-controverted system of classification. Suffice it to say
that the battle is still raging in the bibliographical world. It is interest-
ing to note that the Paris Institute of Bibliography is organized likewise
on the basis of the Dewey classification and the uniform standard card of the
American Library Association, and that, on whichever side the imitation
lies, as between the Brussels and the Paris Institutes, there is an undoubted
relation between their modes of procedure. With some difference in
details, the system of subscription to the two Institutes, it may be added, is
one and the same. In the list of members of the Brussels Institute I
have noted between fifteen and twenty names of American librarians or
institutions.

Among the important enterprises affiliated with the Brussels Institute,
in the way of cooperation, may be mentioned the Concilium Bibliographicum
of Zurich, which publishes Bibliographia Zoologica (an annual repertory
printed both on standard cards and in collected volumes) and the similar
Bibliographica Physiologica, and Bibliographica Anatomica/ the American
Library Association, which publishes Bibliographica Americana, a repertory
of books published in the United States ; the Rome Insegnante di Musica,
which publishes Bibliographica Musicalis Italica ; and various other societies,
too numerous to mention.

Should there be a proposition made to the Modern Language Association
at its approaching meeting, looking to an appropriation for bibliographical
purposes, I take it for granted that the movement will assume the form
of some sort of cooperation or affiliation with the work of the Brussels Institut
International de Bibliographic. Much has already been done in America
in this general direction, which it might be profitable to review here, if
there were time, and if I had the necessary material at my command.
Let me mention only one feature — which, because of its private nature,
may not have become known to all the members of the Modern Language
Association. I refer to the fact that a few of the leading American Uni-
versity Libraries, by cooperation in furnishing copy and by contributing
to cover the necessary expense, are at present supplied with printed title
cards to the current contents of a large number of learned (as distinguished
from popular) periodicals, which they regularly incorporate in their general
card catalogues. Smaller libraries could easily obtain duplicates of these
title cards at comparatively moderate expense, and it may be that, recently,

PROCEEDINGS FOB 1900. XV

more advantage has been taken of this opportunity than I am personally
aware of.

In conclusion, I must say that there are of course a great many points
of interest appropriate to the present theme that I have not even touched
upon. The unmentioned topic that looms up largest in my mind is the
series of international conferences that have been held since 1896 (the
latest of them in June of the present year in London) under^the auspices
of the British Royal Society, in the interest of the publication^of an In-
ternational Catalogue of Sciences (mathematical, physical and natural) ; not
to speak of the recent Bibliographical Congress held under the auspices of
the Paris Exposition.

But I have perhaps said enough to meet the purpose you had in mind
in requesting me to make the present communication. Personally, 1 have
already, on other occasions, had so much to say on the importance of biblio-
graphical facilities to the successful prosecution of higher scholarship, that
I could scarcely be regarded as offering strictly impartial testimony in a
case involving such a project as that at present under consideration.

Very cordially yours,

H. A. TODD.
PROFESSOR JAMES W. BRIGHT,

Secretary Mod. Lang. Assfn of America.

The subject of Cooperative Bibliography thus brought to
the attention of the Association was referred for further con-
sideration to the following committee :

H. A. TODD, Chairman,
JAMES W. BRIGHT,
CALVIN THOMAS.

The reading of papers was then resumed.

10. " The Book of the Courtyer : A Possible Source of
Benedick and Beatrice." By Dr. Mary Augusta Scott, of
Smith College. [Printed in Publications, xvi, 475 f.]

11. On the Latin Sources of ThZbes and finias. By Pro-
fessor F. M. Warren, of Western Reserve University.
[Printed in Publications, xvi, 375 f.]

12. " Lessing's Treatment of the Story of the Ring, and
its Teaching." By Professor W. H, Carruth, of the Uni-
versity of Kansas. [Printed in Publications, xvi, 107 f.]

XVI MODERN LANGUAGE ASSOCIATION.

This paper was discussed by Professor Calvin Thomas.

13. "The Principles of Hermeneutics." By Professor
Julius Goebel, of the Leiand Stanford University.

The author of the paper not being present, the paper was
read by Professor H. Schmidt- Wartenberg, Secretary of the
Central Division of the Association.

This paper was discussed by Professors James T. Hatfield,
A. R. Hohlfeld, F. N. Scott, and J. W. Bright.

The President of the Association called to the chair Pro-
fessor Charles Bundy Wilson, President of the Central Division
of the Association, who presided over the remaining portion
of the Session.

14. "The Semasiology of Col or- Words and their Con-
geners." By Professor Francis A. Wood, of Cornell
College.

This paper also was read for the absent author by Professor
H. Schmidt- Wartenberg.

15. " Johann Christian Kriiger's Lastspiele [1722-1750]."
By Dr. Albert Haas, of Bryn Mawr College.

Kriiger, a writer of comedies before Lessing's time, tried to enlarge the
scope of German comedy beyond the limits accorded to it by Gottsched's
theories. He succeeded in doing so, first, by reintroducing the Arlequin
and the less refined forms of humor, thus following Holberg's example
who also influenced him in minor details ; and, secondly, by using the form
of the traditional French comedy for social satires. These social satires are
directed against the clergy and the nobility and their tone is clearly the
same as that of the writers of the French Revolution.

One of Kriiger's comedies shows close resemblance to Beaumarchais'
Manage de Figaro, although the author was in no way directly influenced
by him. In other respects, his comedies contain simply the stock-figures
and stock-motives of the French comedy and the comedie larmoyante.

Kriiger attains the high literary standard of his French models only in
his first two comedies : Die Geistlichen auf dem Lande and Die Candidaten.
Owing to his financial difficulties, his later comedies and farces were, in the
main, the products of necessity.

This paper was discussed by Professor C. C. Ferrell.

PROCEEDINGS FOR 1900.

16. "The English Chronicle Play." By Professor Felix
E. SchelJing, of the University of Pennsylvania. [Read by
title.]

17. " The Sources of Titus Andronicus." By Dr. Harold
De W. Fuller, of Harvard University. [Read by title.J
[Printed in Publications, xvi, 1 f.]

18. "The Trobador Bertran d'Alamanon." By Professor
Hugo A. Rennert, of the University of Pennsylvania. [Read
by title.]

THIRD SESSION, FRIDAY, DECEMBER 28.

The third session was called to order by the President,
Professor Thomas R. Price, at 2.30 p. m., Friday, Decem-
ber 28.

Professor O. F. Emerson offered the proposition that here-
after the American Dialect Society be allowed to contribute
one paper to the programme of the annual meeting of the
Association. This proposition was accepted by a unanimous
vote of the Association.

The Auditing Committee reported that the Treasurer's
accounts were found to be correct.

In accordance with the report of the Committee appointed
to nominate officers, the following officers were elected for the
year 1901 :

President : Edward S. Sheldon, Harvard University.
Secretary : James W. Bright, Johns Hopkins University.
Treasurer : Herbert E. Greene, Johns Hopkins University.

Executive Council.

Adolphe Cohn, Columbia University.
Francis B. Gummere, Haverford College.
George T. Files, Bowdoin College.

XV111 MODERN LANGUAGE ASSOCIATION.

Charles W. Kent, University of Virginia.

A. R. Hohlfeld, Vanderbilt University.

C. C. Ferrell, University of Mississippi.

W. H. Carruth, University of Kansas.

Charles Bundy Wilson, State University of Iowa.

E. A. Eggers, State University of Ohio.

Phonetic Section.

President : A. Melville Belle, Washington, D. C.
Secretary : George Hempl, University of Michigan.

Pedagogical Section.

President : F. N. Scott, University of Michigan.
Secretary : W. E. Mead, Wesleyan University.

Editorial Committee.

C. H. Grandgent, Harvard University.

H. Schmidt-Wartenberg, University of Chicago.

For the Central Division of the Association the following
officers were elected for the year 1901 :

President : James T. Hatfield, Northwestern University.
Secretary : Raymond Weeks, University of Missouri.
First Vice-President : C. W. Pearson, Beloit College.
Second Vice-President: E. P. Morton, University of
Indiana.

Third Vice-President : B. L. Bowen, Ohio State University.

Council.

F. A. Blackburn, University of Chicago.
Eugenie Galloo, University of Kansas.

D. K. Dodge, University of Illinois.
C. C. Ferrell, University of Mississippi.

PROCEEDINGS FOR 1900. xix

The committee appointed to select the place for the next
meeting of the Central Division of the Association named the
University of Illinois, at Champaign, 111. By vote of the
Association this selection was confirmed.

19. "The Legends of Cain and his Descendants in Old
and Middle English Literature." By Professor O. F. Emer-
son, of the Western Reserve University.

Starting with the passages in Beowulf referring to Cain (11,107,1261),
which have been somewhat variously explained, the paper presented an
extended study of the legends associated with the first murderer and his
descendants. For this purpose, the first part of the paper was devoted to
Hebrew traditions which modify and extend the biblical history before the
flood. Special attention was called to traditions relating to Cain's birth,
the quarrel with Abel, the curse and the sign set on Cain, the death of
Cain, and various classes of his descendants.

A second part of the study contained numerous quotations from early
Christian writers, showing that these Hebrew traditions were early adopted
and utilized by medieval writers, in both explanation and extension of the
brief account in the Bible.

By far the larger part of the paper was taken up with the numerous
allusions to Cain and his descendants in medieval writers, mainly those of
Old and Middle English times, though with some examples from Old
Saxon, Old High German, and Old French writings. The allusions in
English are especially numerous and often need special elucidation, owing
to their fragmentary character or other obscurity in detail. Especially
interesting in all periods are the references to the descendents of the first
murderer, and the writer showed that some previous interpretations were
to be considerably modified.

In the discussion of this paper Professor W. E. Mead sug-
gested a possible connection between the Cain-legend and the
Devil Parliament in the Romance of Merlin. Professor "W.
T. Hewitt referred to the ' Bad Boy ' in Hans Sachs and else-
where. The expression 'raising Cain' was a confirmation,
Professor Emerson thought, of Professor Hewitt's suggestion.

The Secretary of the Pedagogical Section of the Association,
Professor W. E. Mead, of Wesleyan University, presented
the following report :

XX MODERN LANGUAGE ASSOCIATION.

THE GRADUATE STUDY OP RHETORIC.

About two months ago the Pedagogical Section of the Modern Language
Association suddenly developed a very unusual, if not alarming energy, the
credit for which belongs entirely to Professor Scott, the President of the
Section. As a result of this new activity, somewhat more than a hundred
circulars containing the following questions were sent to teachers of Eng-
lish and to others who might presumably have an opinion on the topic
under investigation :

1. Is Ehetoric, in your opinion, a proper subject for graduate work ?

2. If so, what is the proper aim, what is the scope, and what are the
leading problems of Rhetoric as a graduate study ?

3. If Rhetoric, in your opinion, should not be admitted to the list of
graduate studies, what do you regard as the strongest reasons for exclud-
ing it?

Of the sixty-three reports that were returned, all but seven attempted
answers more or less detailed to the questions. Most of the colleges and
universities represented in the reports are northern institutions, but they are
situated in nearly all of the principal states from the Atlantic to the Pacific.1

The most striking fact that I have noted in reading the reports is that
men of apparently equal ability and equal interest in the subject take
diametrically opposite views of the fitness of Rhetoric as a graduate study.
This may be due in part to the lack of agreement in the definition of the
term Rhetoric, which was purposely left without interpretation or limita-
tion in the questions, with a view to drawing out from various sources a
statement as to the proper scope and aims of the subject. One thing, how-
ever, the investigation may fairly lay claim to have settled, and that is that
the term Rhetoric should either be abandoned for one less equivocal, or
that it should be more strictly defined. Owing to the prevalent vagueness
of conception as to what Rhetoric really is and should cover, the various
reports read a little like debates on a question in which the meaning of
leading terms has not been agreed upon. Yet in this very fact there are
some compensations ; for there have been called out a variety of sugges-
tions as to the possible extension of the field of Rhetoric, and the introduc-
tion into our graduate courses of an organized group of related subjects
that have not hitherto been systematically combined.

With these few words of preface, I now turn to the actual reports. You
would be interested, I am sure, to have a considerable number of the argu-
ments on both sides of the main question, but the time allowed for this
matter is so brief that I can do little more than outline the positions that

1 About one hundred and fifty circulars have also been sent to representa-
tive European scholars and writers, but reports from them have not yet
arrived in sufficient numbers to be included in this survey of opinion.

PROCEEDINGS FOB 1900. xxi

have been taken, and read a few of the more detailed reports.1 There is,
as might be expected, more or less repetition.

A decided majority of the writers hold that the subject, as they define it,
has a legitimate place as a graduate study. To clear the ground, I there-
fore present the negative view first. It is only fair to say, however, that
possibly some of those who most object to the inclusion of Khetoric as a
graduate study would heartily favor as graduate studies some of the subjects
suggested below, only they might prefer not to regard them as branches of
Rhetoric. The narrowness of meaning given to the term in some of the
reports is as remarkable as the vast extension of its meaning in others.

The principal objection urged against Rhetoric, considered as a graduate
study, is that it is primarily an art rather than a science ; that mere knowl-
edge of what has been the practice of great writers, what has been the his-
tory of the development of the theory, in short, mere knowledge of the sub-
ject as at present taught, or as it has been taught in the past, is a matter of
comparatively small practical importance. The main thing is practical
assimilation of a few fundamental principles. But all this and more is
brought out in the reports, and I therefore present these without further
delay, and let the advocates of either side speak for themselves2 : —

(a) " I cannot conceive any form of rhetorical science or rhetorical art
as having sufficient body ; as having any interesting field for exploration
and discovery ; as having adequate interior organization ; as being under
the government of general laws ; as being free from the tyranny of dogma
and authority ; I say I cannot imagine any single rhetorical entity which
is not a mass or an assemblage of dicta in no way interdependent, and
which may not at a thousand points be discussed as a matter of opinion, but
never decided by any energy of investigation."

(6) " I think that Rhetoric is only useful in so far as it is practically
helpful to the student in enabling him to write better ; and further, it may,
in some small measure, be useful in helping him to appreciate good literature.

" Unless the eye is kept fixed on these two aims, Rhetoric, it seems to
me, may easily grow into a large scheme of divisions and definitions, which
may give an impression that something is really being accomplished, but
which is about as desirable for the student as a revival of the metaphysics
and logic of the school men."

1 It has been thought desirable on various grounds to publish no names
in connection with the reports , but the aim has been to make the presen-
tation of opinion practically complete on both sides of the main question.
Many excellent reports have been crowded out owing to lack of space,
though the trend of the arguments has been carefully followed in the
general statement.

2 For the sake of brevity I dispense with connective words, and arrange
the individual reports under the letters (a), (6), (c), etc.

XX11 MODERN LANGUAGE ASSOCIATION.

(c) " If by Rhetoric as graduate study we mean ' criticism,' ' philosophy,*
' logic/ or ' aesthetics ' my answer is that we already recognize it under
these several titles, and that the return to an antiquated use of a word will
gain nothing. If by ' Rhetoric ' we are to mean, as popularly, composition,
I think that the place of that study is in the college, not in the university.
I see no sphere for ' Rhetoric ' as a graduate study except in a trespass upon
literature, aesthetics, logic, or pedagogy — if it attempt the art of teach-
ing how to teach composition."

(d) ''The chief reason (for excluding Rhetoric) would be that Rhetoric,
as a compendium of general principles, can be easily expounded in a single
volume. If the study involves diction and style, it is usually included in
the department of Literature."

(e) " My experience has tended to show that the personal element plays
too large a part in rhetorical study for anything like accurate or scientific
results to be obtained."

(/) " The object of teaching Rhetoric is, in my judgment, not theoretical
but practical, as propaedeutic to composition and literature, and the under-
graduate course should suffice for this. The graduate course should be
literature itself, which has no limit."

(g) " I am sure that I do not believe in making Rhetoric a subject for
graduate study, but I find some difficulty in expressing my reason. The
practical part of Rhetoric ought surely to be studied before graduation ;
and what I may call the learned part of Rhetoric has always seemed to me
to be a peculiarly unprofitable study with which I should not be inclined
to do much, either after graduation, or before it."

(h) " Rhetoric seems to me wholly unprofitable, and therefore an im-
proper subject for graduate investigation. On the other hand, a course in
English composition, as training in thought and expression, may often be
profitable to a graduate student ; and such a course may be of much assist-
ance to the study of English literature."

(i) " Rhetoric, as distinguished from criticism, is merely the formulation
of certain principles of good writing. Since writing which produces litera-
ture is one of the fine arts these principles are of necessity few and very
general. As soon as these principles are reduced to a rigid and scientific
system they become misleading and mischievous, for the essence of every
fine art is individuality of conception and of execution. Tabulation of
facts and generalisation in such matters very rarely produce anything
except results which were already obvious, or rules whose very rigidity
condemns them."

" Regarding Rhetoric as the art of speaking and writing correctly, I am
of the opinion that it is an unsuitable subject for graduate study. When
a man has obtained his A. B. degree he ought to be able to write his
language with sufficient correctness to be responsible in the future for his
own style. If he has not thus learned to write reasonably well he probably
never will learn.

PROCEEDINGS FOR 1900. xxiii

" Regarding Rhetoric as a science, that is, an enquiry into the why and
wherefore of the effect of words and the like, etc., or as a subject for
historical treatment, I should think the material rather slight for
graduate work, except as some individual might care to take it up. The
materal furnished by the XYZ school, for example, which has gone as far
as any into the science of the thing and is excellent in its way, if not very
suggestive or exact, would furnish an intelligent student with material for
only a fortnight of study, and is wholly worthless as a practical aid to an
advanced and capable writer. From this so-called scientific point of view,
Rhetoric ought to be regarded as a mere detail of psychology or linguistics
and be treated as such. Historically, Rhetoric affords small material, and
that of the most academic and arid kind ; what has heretofore been said
about the subject from Aristotle to Whately, should not occupy a serious
man a great while. He would have to study it for his own curiosity rather
than as an addition to his teaching equipment."

(j) " Though I should hesitate to say that any subject is not suitable for
this purpose, Rhetoric strikes me as anything but particularly adapted to
it. I should regard it as a- better subject of study for a person interested in
philosophy than for one interested in English. For such a one I should
even consider it dangerous, one in which he was likely to become mazed —
to the great disadvantage of the luckless freshmen he will later, probably,
have to teach. Of men who fling Aristotle every few minutes at beardless
youths, of men so infested with the aesthetic bee in their bonnets that
they try to make dull undergraduates theorize instead of teaching them to
write, I have seen enough to warrant this statement. For the teaching of
English composition, I consider the advanced study of Rhetoric almost
if not quite useless ; I should regard it as suitable for study in the same
spirit as Logic."

(k) " In my opinion, Rhetoric, in so far as it concerns itself with princi-
ples deduced from the practice of good writers and speakers and applied to
a student's own composition, — useful though it is to everyone who would
perfect himself in the art of expression, — is not a proper subject for
graduate work leading to a degree.

" A graduate student should, of course, be able to present in appropriate
literary form the results of labor in his chosen field ; but he should have
done preparatory work to that end before he became a graduate. If he
has not mastered the general principles of Rhetoric and learned how to
apply them to his own writing before he enters a graduate school, he
should supply his deficiency as soon as he can, — should supply it as he
would supply a deficiency in arithmetic or in any other subject that belongs
in the school or the college curriculum; he should make Rhetoric a sup-
plementary study. It is hardly necessary to add that a graduate student
should use his knowledge of Rhetoric as an aid in all his written work.
From Rhetoric thus used he will get far more advantage than could be
obtained in any other way ; for it will be to him not an end in itself but a
means to a higher end, not a matter of knowledge but a source of power

XXIV MODERN LANGUAGE ASSOCIATION.

in the use of knowledge. He will thus avoid the danger which besets
those who study Rhetoric by itself or who write essays on subjects in which
they take a languid interest, — the danger of valuing style for style's sake,
of setting form above substance, of treating good English as something
apart from the daily work of life.

" In so far as Rhetoric may be regarded as a science, it does not seem to
me of sufficient importance to be entitled to a place among studies leading
to a graduate degree. Under this head, a possible subject is The History
of Rhetoric, Ancient and Modern ; but a graduate student would not be
likely to discover anything new in a field which has been so thoroughly
explored, nor would he probably put the old facts into better shape. The
study of purely theoretical Rhetoric would, I fear, in the hands of a
graduate student lead either to vague generalities or to pedantry in one
form or another, — such as technical terms, confusing diagrams, statistics of
words in sentences or of sentences in paragraphs. Between metaphysical
subtleties on the one hand, and mechanical devices on the other, he would
lose sight of those living and life-giving qualities in a great writer which
make him great.

"If, however, Rhetoric be held to include the study of a great author or
group of authors, with special reference to style as affected by subject
matter, individuality, and contemporaneous influences, it may, under
favorable conditions, be a subject leading to a graduate degree. Those con-
ditions imply a student of exceptional literary taste and talent, a professor
willing and competent to oversee and direct work of a very high grade,
and a committee willing and competent to pass judgment on a thesis which
embodies the results of such work.

" My conclusions are confirmed by the testimony of the members of a
small class in English Composition, to whom I read without comment the
questions under consideration, and who answered them in writing. Of the
sixteen men who wrote, eleven are graduates, and several of them have
taught English in secondary schools. The eleven graduates, taken
together, hold diplomas from fourteen or fifteen colleges, three or four
having received them from two or more institutions. Of the under-
graduates, one was prepared for college at an English public school. All,
undergraduates and graduates, are students well on in life and mature in
mind. As a whole, the class may be fairly regarded as representing — to
the extent that such a small class can represent — the opinions of advanced
students in English on the questions in hand.

" Of these writers every one discussed the main question as if Rhetoric
were to be understood to mean English Composition as a whole or in part.
Not one seriously considered the possibility of making Rhetoric a study by
itself. Those who answered the first question in the affirmative contended
that a graduate who had had no instruction, or next to none, while in college,
or who had failed to profit by the instruction provided, should be allowed
to use a part of his work leading to a graduate degree as a means of making
up for lost time. Some of these writers seemed to think that a graduate

PROCEEDINGS FOR 1900. XXV

school might be made to serve as a school for critical or creative genius ;
but their plans for the conduct of such a school were not very definite.
Those who answered the first question in the negative maintained that
there is no more reason for putting Rhetoric among the studies leading to
a graduate degree than for putting arithmetic, political geography, or
table etiquette there ; that Rhetoric, as even undergraduates discover early
in the college course, ought to be studied not for itself primarily, but for
its value to the student in all his other work in English, and that to give
it ' the false dignity of isolation ' would be to diminish rather than to
increase its importance."

II.

In reply to all this the advocates of the subject maintain that there are
many legitimate topics for graduate study within the field of Rhetoric.
In general, they propose three or four main lines of inquiry — historical,
psychological, or philosophical, and pedagogical.

On the historical side they suggest (1) the history of Rhetoric and the
development of rhetorical theory, particularly in the writings of the great
masters from Aristotle down to the present; (2) the historical study of
English Syntax; (3) the history of usages and the study of the
usage of given authors; (4) comparative historical study of forms of
expression in kindred languages and exhaustive classification of the
existing material ; (5) the history of English literary criticism.

Philosophical or psychological study of the subject would involve an
investigation of the problems of literary art, of the principles underlying
expression, of the relation of logic to Rhetoric ; a study of the theory of
literary criticism, of aesthetics, of the basis for niceties of style ; and, in
general, what may be included under the term philosophy of style.

On the pedagogical side some hold that the future instructor in Rhetoric
should be trained in methods of teaching the subject. Some urge, too,
that practical exercise in composition should be included in the graduate
work, through several were careful to exclude that as counting for a degree.

I now take up as before the actual reports and will read as many as time
permits : —

(a) " The only reason I can see for excluding Rhetoric is that it is not an
individual subject, but a composite of parts of grammar, psychology, logic,
literary criticism, and perhaps other studies. But though Rhetoric bor-
rows its fundamentals, it applies them in a way that is its own. This fact,
it seems to me, justifies its existence as a subject of higher study. I recall a
thesis for the degree of Ph. D. on the development, philosophy, and use of
the English paragraph. Every one will no doubt agree that this subject
is well worthy of research, yet I doubt if any department of psychology
or of English literature would encourage its students to choose it for a
doctor's thesis. There are many similar subjects which will not receive the
scholarly attention they deserve if Rhetoric is not recognized as a graduate
study.

XXVI MODERN LANGUAGE ASSOCIATION.

" Rhetoric is not, however, equal in importance to those subjects that
have an independent existence, and if it is to be pursued as a graduate
study its relation to other branches of knowledge must be fully realized.
It would be nonsense to plan graduate work in Rhetoric which should
simply continue the mixed lessons given under that name in elementary
text-books."

(6) " I believe Rhetoric to be a proper subject for graduate work leading
to a degree, if logic and literature and psychology are.

" I regard Rhetoric as essentially a branch of psychology ; it is the
psychology of the creative activity applied to the processes and problems
of literature. Its practical utility as a graduate study arises from the fact
that it deals with the form of mental activity with which men have most
to do in life, either as production or as appreciation ; it introduces men to
the true inwardness of literature with which, as matter of refining culture,
they are to be conversant all their lives. As to scope, it covers all the field
of literature in the making ; and its problems are analogous to the problems
that arise in learning the technique of any art.

" With this view of Rhetoric, I am inclined to put it later in the college
course than is sometimes done ; for fair appreciation of its significance I
think we must go as late, at least, as Junior year.

" I give no reason for excluding it ; but I think I know, in part, why the
question of retaining it was raised at all. Rhetoric has been pursued
merely as composition, that is, with the object of making writers; and
now it is discovered that writers are not made either by going through
certain paces in a strait-jacket of refined grammar, or by jotting down
daily what the student saw on his walk to the post-office, — in fact it is
beginning to be suspected that writers are not made at all. But in view
of this discovery I should not advocate throwing the whole study over-
board. I should interrogate the study more closely to see what it contains
worth keeping, and revise my methods to correspond. For myself — after
considerable study of Rhetoric, and experience in teaching it to under-
graduates— I have much faith in the study and its capabilities, though
these are not so exclusively utilitarian as they have been regarded; I
believe it may be just as practical, just as interesting, just as profitable,
just as liberally educative, to study literature constructively (in other
words, rhetoric), as to study it historically."

" (1) Aim: investigation into the nature and functions of discourse, its
proper conditions and results, definition of the various kinds of discourse in
psychologic terms, determination of the aesthetic basis for certain rhetorical
effects, etc. The historic development of rhetorical theory should also be
traced.

" (2) The scope of graduate work in Rhetoric is bounded neither by
present rhetorical dogma nor even by the developing history of rhetorical

PROCEEDINGS FOR 1900. XXvii

theory from the Sophists and Plato down. It touches for subject-matter
both literature and linguistics ; for method psychology, aesthetics, and
sociology.

" (3) Problems: some suggested under (1). The nature and function of
figures of speech in general, of specific figures. Prose rhythms. The rela-
tions of argument to formal and real logic. The psychologic basis for
descriptive writing, narrative structure in its aesthetic bearings, etc.

" Ignorance on the part of its opponents, as to the real nature of the sub-
ject of Khetoric and the meaning of its study, is the only reason for exclud-
ing it which can be offered.

"Note: My own experience as graduate student and as director of
graduate courses has convinced me that the field of rhetorical investigation
is rich in opportunity for original, thorough, philosophic work. Without
a fairly complete training, however, in modern psychology and aesthetics,
as well as in literature and language, only dilettante work is possible, and
that has long discredited the name Rhetoric in our colleges and universi-
ties."

(d) " Admitting that our current terms ' literature ' and ' Rhetoric ' over-
lap even to the extent of some confusion, I think that courses such as the
following are both properly graduate and properly Ehetoric :

" (1) Courses in the theory of criticism.

" (2) Courses in poetics (though for practical reasons Rhetoric may well
be confined to prose).

"(3) Courses in a particular prose form (e. g., the novel), where the aim
is not so much to show the historical development as to expose the scope of
the form and appreciate various'treatments of it. The fundamental theory
of narration, the fundamental classification by epic (or realistic) and
romantic, the exploration of a distinct and widespread form such as the
short story, and finally, the analysis of a particular method such as George
Meredith's, seem theoretically to be matters of Rhetoric and practically
not to be otherwise provided.

" (4) Courses in verse-forms. These are purely rhetorical, beginning and
ending in form as such. (But cf. note on (2).)

" (5) Courses to train teachers in the presentation of theory, and especially
in handling essays.

" (6) Courses in research, ( methodology.'

" So far for theory. In practice a given department is not to be divided
a priori, with certain men strictly for 'literature' on one side of an
imaginary line, and certain men for ' Rhetoric ' on the other. This, being
entirely a matter of organization, seems not to affect your question.
Again, it is often unwise for a student that has pursued several under-
graduate courses in writing to go on after graduation with further courses
in writing. On the other hand, since every graduate school has students
evidently in need of further practice, either special courses in writing
should be provided for graduates alone, or undergraduate courses should be

XXV111 MODERN LANGUAGE ASSOCIATION.

open to graduates. The latter being usually the more economical solution,
I am doubtful whether there should be, at least in universities whose
undergraduate courses in the practice of composition cover four years,
strictly graduate courses to the same end. I am regularly called on for
help in the ordering of doctoral dissertations ; but that is usually because
the candidates have had no adequate undergraduate instruction, and the
difficulty would hardly be met by a separate course.

" In sum, then, I think the theory of Rhetoric is distinctly a subject
proper for graduate work leading to a degree ; the practice of composition
not so distinctly, if at all. I should say not at all, if I did not bethink me
of a year's work with a playwright, a year of hard practice, very profitable
to me and, I venture to think, to him. Certainly, in spite of exceptions
easily made, the proper field for the particular education that comes
through systematic practice under systematic criticism is undergraduate.

" Note. — I have made no reference to aesthetics ; for in practice that
seems more naturally to belong to the psychology-philosophy group. On
the other hand, in certain universities, as Princeton and Michigan, I sup-
pose Rhetoric has its foot firmly planted there. As to the correct theoreti-
cal division I am quite incapable of pronouncing judgment."

(e) " Rhetoric, in my opinion, is a proper subject for graduate work lead-
ing to a degree, but not in so far as it is composition, which should be an
undergraduate study, or, if graduate, should not count toward a degree.

" In so far as it is theory, Rhetoric is as proper a study for graduate work,
in my opinion, as any other art of the linguistic field. Not of course the
elementary side of the theory, which is for undergraduates alone, but the
history of Rhetoric, the fundamental principles, if there are any, tested by
psychology, philosophy, etc. Now that our students and professors of
Rhetoric are beginning to have a good philological training, I hope to see
the form-side of English prose covered as well as the form-side of English
poetry is being covered. But Rhetoric is a horrid name for the theory of
word-usage and style, and I wish we could drop it, including the whole
higher field under some such general term as linguistics or philology. I
am giving, myself, a graduate course in the history of theories regarding
word-usage. Students seem to like it, and it has at least the effect of giv-
ing them a new conception of the scholar's and the good citizen's attitude
towards words and of knocking out of their heads the foolish dicta of the
popular text-books on Rhetoric."

(/) "I believe that the strict aims of Rhetoric as a graduate study
should be pedagogical in their nature. Paidology, the aesthetics of prose,
the history of language, and the history of Rhetoric, are proper fields of
that research which shall discover a scientific basis for leaching an efficient
use of the mother tongue. The psychology of childhood and youth as
related to problems of language-teaching, and the history of language as
throwing light upon those problems, are matters very imperfectly under-
stood as yet. Even the dry history of Rhetoric, a subject closed to students

PROCEEDINGS FOR 1900.

who have small Latin and Greek, is profitable unto humility. It at least
saves the student from some of the crude dogmatism of them who in each
generation reinvent theories tried by Corax and Tisias, and by them found
wanting."

(g} " If regarded as a science it would be conducted on the same lines as
Grammar or Language. The History of Rhetoric — the History of Rhe-
torical Treatises — Comparative Rhetoric, etc., would be proper objects of
research.

" If regarded as an art there would need to be a change in the interpre-
tation of the advanced degrees. For the Oxford doctorate in music the
candidate must present a musical composition as part evidence of profi-
ciency. I do not see why a rhetorical composition, an essay, a novel, a
poem, or other literary kind, should not count toward a degree in litera-
ture. In that case graduate Rhetoric would be simply an extension of the
theme system now used with undergraduates."

(h) " [ find there is as much ground for investigation in ' Rhetoric' as in
any other branch of English work, and as, I believe, in any other subject
pursued in universities. We have here considerable classes working upon
problems connected with the evolution of present prose modes and styles,
and also investigating experimentally into what may be done in characteri-
zation, nature-work, etc. I confess I do not see why a degree may not be
earned by achieving knowledge of how present literary form has been
evolved, or by acquiring the power to use the modes of the masters
consciously and confidently and with scientific selection."

(t) "It seems to me the value of Rhetoric as a subject for graduate work
depends upon whether it be regarded as an art or as a science, if these
distinctions will be allowed. Rhetoric should be mastered in its practical
aspects before the student completes his undergraduate study; but as a
science I believe it is eminently suited for graduate work. It should be
regarded in this latter sense as a phase of psychology ; and its problems
should be looked upon as psychological at bottom. In general the study
should relate to the outcome of various modes of language-expression
upon the behavior of men ; the minor questions falling under this general
problem would relate to the effects of particular qualities or characteristics
of expression. I think the study should be on one side historical, aiming
to discover what manner of discourse men have employed in the past to
influence their hearers and readers, and if possible to trace the outcome ;
as a phase of the historical study, perhaps, students should analyze the
the qualities of expression of great works which have endured for a long
time and have exerted a marked influence on human conduct, as well on
account of their style as of their content. I think there is a place too for
the experimental study of rhetoric, the aim of which should be to determine
by test the influence upon people of different modes of expression of the
same idea. If we could get anything like an accurate account of the effect
which various modes have upon men as they are subjected to them in their

XXX MODERN LANGUAGE ASSOCIATION.

practical lives there would not be such need for accurate experiment, but
thus far we have been unable to do this.

" I am convinced that not enough attention has been paid to the psycho-
logical aspects of rhetoric ; the attention has been devoted too largely to
treating the subject from the standpoint and according to the method of
linguistics, which is all right as far as it goes, but it seems to me that finally
all the principles of rhetoric rest upon principles of psychology of the
individual and of the social mind. A graduate student ought to be led up
to a way of looking at rhetoric from the psychological point of view, and
subjecting all rhetorical principles to the psychological test. I think
grammar can be treated by the linguistic method much more effectively
than can rhetoric ; the former is more or less arbitrary in respect of psycho-
logical law, while the latter is at every point vital and dependent upon
psychological law. I should say that the undergraduate should be made
familiar with rhetoric mainly on its art side, while the graduate should
master it on its psychological and philosophical sides."

(j) " Mere Khetoric, understood as the teachings of technical treatises
called .Rhetorics, is hardly in itself a subject for graduate study. The
history of rhetorical theory, as a branch of the history of criticism, is a
proper subject. Investigations into the psychology of rhetoric and style
(e. g. Herbert Spencer's ' economy of attention ' ) or scientific study of the
history of style (whether as the rhetoric of prose or the rhetoric of poetry)
are proper subjects. Rhetoric in this sense is a part of the study of the
history of literary form. It should not be admitted, however, except in
close and constant connection with the copious and extensive study and
reading of the body of literature itself and with the study of literary
history. There should be no separate curriculum of graduate study in
Rhetoric.

"Mere theme-writing, however sublimated or raised even to the wth
power, ought never to be a part of the credits for a higher degree. If this
is understood to be a part of Rhetoric then Rhetoric, so far, should be
excluded."

(k) " I know no field so unexplored and so profitable for graduate work as
Rhetoric. The relation of Rhetoric to Psychology deserves exhaustive
investigation; is full of problems of interest and practical significance.
The relation of Rhetoric to Logic, the history of Logic and Rhetoric, the
philosophical implications of Rhetoric, are all crying for treatment and
discussion. A comparison of the methods of the new logic and rhetoric
would be a most valuable study. I believe in formal Rhetoric per se there
is a most spacious field for work. Our text-books have been confined to
too practical ends and have obscured the larger issues involved in rhetoric
as an art as well as a science.

" A study of Rhetoric on liberal lines I believe may have the highest
disciplinary value for graduate learning and does offer problems of profound
interest for research."

PROCEEDINGS FOR 1900. XXxi

(/) "In the highest conception of the study *Rhetoric is, in my opinion,
a proper subject for graduate work leading to a degree.

" The proper aim, the scope, and the leading problems of Khetoric as a
graduate study are : —

" 1st. The study of the historical grammar of the English language, so
as to reveal to advanced students, especially from the literary side, the
meaning and association of words and construction and elements of style.

"2d. The study of logic, both deductive and inductive, so as to reach
the principles of composition ; the methods of proof and the arrangement
of topics and arguments.

"These are the two chief aims to be kept in mind in the intellectual
training of the advanced students. Their thesis-work shows only too
clearly how much they stand in need of these two special disciplines."

(TO) " Rhetoric is or is not a proper subject (I should prefer the term
' field ') for graduate study, according to the side approached. If Rhetoric
be approached as a theory, a discussion of what ought to be a compar-
ing of methods, an appreciation of forms, then it is, in my judgment,
useless for graduate study. Perhaps even worse than useless. I doubt
the value of rhetorical study even for undergraduates, beyond a certain
point. What the young need is practice in actual composition, with a
minimum of theory and a maximum of correction.

" What the graduate is going to do with the debatable questions of style,
the so-called analytics of style, is to me a mystery.

" On the other hand I am always glad to see any one investigate the
actual historical growth of forms. I have in mind such work as Lewis's
Growth of the English Paragraph, an admirable bit of scholarship, and
no less practical. I hope that we may live to see similar attempts at eluci-
dating the use of the relative pronouns (who, which, vs. that}, the shall — mil
business thoroughly sifted, the growth of dialogue in prose story-telling, the
vicissitudes of the short story. In truth, there are dozens of questions upon
which we need the enlightenment of history. Why then waste time and
brains in thrashing over again something which is after all only subjective
opinion ? Mere aesthetic theorizing should be left to the magazine writer
or to the really gifted critic who feels himself competent to tread in the
footsteps of Lessing.

"My view has always been that the college (university) is a place for
research, for scholarship, for finding out something hitherto unsuspected.
Such is the object of our libraries and our seminary methods. The outside
world hasn't the time to investigate ; we must do the investigating. For
instance, is any one prepared off-hand to state accurately the growth of the
ceremonial terms of address : Your Majesty, Your Grace, Your Holiness,
etc. ? The procedure is old ; there are abundant traces of it in Bede. But
where did it begin ? With the Greeks? Or with the Romans ! What are
the steps in the fashion ? Through what forms has it passed in English ?
Now that is what I should call rhetorical study fit for the ablest graduate.

XXX11 MODERN LANGUAGE ASSOCIATION.

But for one may I be spared* all doctrinal disquisitions upon style ! I have
had only one here, in ten years, and that one satisfied me of the uselessness
of such work. Henceforth, I accept only research."

To the foregoing expressions of opinion there is little that I need add.
A dogmatic decision by this Committee as to the merits of the main ques-
tion would be unlikely to further any of the interests involved ; and the
divergence of opinion as to the proper field of Rhetoric is too wide to per-
mit more than an impartial presentation of the arguments on either side.
As a matter of personal opinion, however, the Committee may venture to
suggest that the term Rhetoric as heretofore generally employed, may well
be enlarged in meaning so as to include much more than practical composi-
tion and that the field thus opened will afford abundant opportunity for
investigation by the serious student.

This report was discussed by Professors F. N. Scott, James
W. Bright, Herbert E. Greene, E. H. Magill, and Calvin
Thomas.

20. " The Primitive Prise d> Orange." By Professor Ray-
mond Weeks, of the University of Missouri. [Printed in
Publications, xvi, 361 f.]

21. "A Note on the Prison-Scene in Goethe's Faust." By
Professor James T. Hatfield, of the Northwestern University.
[Printed in Publications, xvi, 117 f.]

22. " On the Middle English Religious Lyric." By Dr.
J. Vincent Crowne, of the University of Pennsylvania.

The paper discussed two groups of poems on associated themes of frequent
occurrence: the Joys, and the Complaint, of Mary. The first group is
larger than is commonly stated, there being at least ten, perhaps eleven,
lyrics on the subject of the Five Joys, besides those that celebrate a differ-
ent number. The usual series of Joys is : Annunciation of Gabriel, Birth
of Christ, Resurrection, Ascension, Assumption of Mary. In two instances
the Epiphany is substituted for the Ascension. The number Seven is
sometimes made up by adding the Visit to Elizabeth, and the Finding of
Christ in the Temple. The content, structure, language, and metre of the
individual poems were discussed, and it was seen that there is .no evidence
of literary contact between them. With the exception of a courtly and
erotic pastourelle, the tendency is to the simple form and unadorned diction
of the Latin models. BrandPs statement about this series, " Gaudia— in
England sind es regelmassig fiinf, auf dem continent sieben," is inaccurate

PROCEEDINGS FOR 1900. xxxiii

in both particulars, though near the truth in the former. Though numer-
ous variations from the number five in England are cited, the fact remains
not only that the general subject of the Joys was more popular in England
than elsewhere, but that the number five was the favorite there. Kev. T.
K. Bridgett's explanation of the popularity of the theme — its association
with the name of Becket — is satisfactory. The fondness for the number
five is accounted for by its association with the wounds of Christ, and the
letters in the name Maria, but above all by the fact that from the eleventh
century the English people, and for a considerable period they alone, kept
five great yearly holidays in honor of Mary. The subject of Mary's woe
produced during the M. E. period an important Latin prose dialogue
attributed to Anselm, a thirteenth century Anglo-Norman poem, at least
sixteen English lyrics, and lyrical scenes in five religious plays. The
lyrics having a variety of forms: Debate between Christ and Mary, or
between Mary and the Cross, complicated dialogue, including lyric and
narrative, between Mary and the poet, and most frequently pure lyric in
the form of complaint. While the poems follow certain traditional inci-
dents and motives, based on St. Bernard and St. Anselm, there is little evi-
dence of verbal relation between the English poems themselves. The
main points brought out in the paper are : a demonstration of the imme-
diate dependence of a long Lament in the Cursor Mundi on a sermon of St.
Bernard ; a suggestion of a further source of Maidenstoon's Lament in
Anselm's Dialogus de Passione; the probable borrowings in the Digby
Good Friday Play from some English lyrics ; the remarkable absence of any
influence of the Stabat Mater; the absence of any evidence of a musical
drama or monodrama on this subject, as on the continent ; the lack of evi-
dence of any immediate contact between the lyrics and the scenes in the
Mystery Cycles.

23. "The Medea of Euripides and the Medea of Grill-
parzer." By Professor C C. Ferrell, of the University of
Mississippi. [Printed in The Sewanee Review, July, 1901.]

24. u Literary Manners in the Nineteenth Century." By
Mr. Charles M. Magee, of Temple College.

25. "Laocoon, and Lessing as a Connoisseur of Art." By
Dr. K. D. Jessen, of the University of Chicago. [Read
by title.]

26. "Der mynnen chrieg mil der sel : an inedited Dialogue
in the Alemannic Dialect of the Fifteenth Century. '' By
Professor F. G. C. Schmidt, of the University of Oregon.
[Read by title.]

XXXI V MODERN LANGUAGE ASSOCIATION.

The dialogue printed below is found in the library of Maihingen in
Bavaria. [A detailed account of German manuscripts in the library of
Maihingen I have given in Alemannia, Vol. xxiv, pp. 51-86, and in Johns
Hopkins University Circulars, Vol. xv, No. 123, pp. 40-42.] It is contained
in a paper manuscript in quarto of the year 1464, and catalogued III.
Deutsch i. 4°, 8. The entire volume of 404 leaves contains three divi-
sions: I. Das Buchlein von der Liebhaltung Gottes, 11. la-124b; II.
Geistliche Betrachtungen eines Karthausers, 11. 124b-352b; III. Geist-
liches Gesprach zwischen einer Fiirstin und einer Kramerin von einem
Paternoster aus Edelsteinen, 11. 353a-404b. [See my article in Alemannia,
Vol. xxvi, pp. 193-229.]

It is the second division of this volume in which this short dialogue is
contained. It is preceded and followed by a number of chapters on various
subjects that have no relation to each other, as will be seen from some of
the following titles :

Bin fasnachtchrapff; 11. 136a-141a.

Wie man zu der Ee greifen sol ; 11. 142a-168a.

Du solt dich also halten, etc. ; 11. 168b-179b.

Habitabat agnus cum lupo ursus et leo et agnus pascentur simul et

puer parvulus minabit eos, etc. ; 11. 179b-194b.
Vom redenn ; 11. 194b-197b.
Vom Schweigen; 11. 197b-202a.
Dicz sind die vier angeltugend, etc. ; 11. 202a-206b.
Der sel regel ; 11. 206b-208b.
Von siben gedencken ; 11. 208b-212a.
Bernhardus; 11. 212a-213a.
Augustinus; 11. 213a-216a.
Diss sind die zaichen, etc. ; 11. 216b-217a.
Die siben almusen, etc. ; 11. 217b-218b.
Von dem stilston in den Sacrament; 11. 218b-219b.
Die wiirking des hailigen sacrament; 11. 219-220b.
Berenhardus spricht ; 11. 220b-222a.
Augustinus ; 11. 222a-224a.
Vpn dem weichprunnen ; 11. 224a-229a.
Von ainer efrawen ; 11. 229a-235a.
Das sindt die siben zeit des pater nosters ; 11. 235a-236b.
Der mynnen chrieg mit der sel ; 11. 236b-238a.
Die guldin regel hat syben cappitel ; 11. 238b-239a.
Do vnnser herr zue himel fur ; 11. 239a-239b.
Sibenerlay mynne vnd liebin ; 11. 240a-241a, etc.

Some of the chapters are mere abstracts or fragments of larger works.
Whether this is also true in regard to our dialogue it is difficult to deter-
mine. The character of the contents is such as to make it impossible to

PROCEEDINGS FOR 1900. XXXV

offer any definite theories. The subject matter is so general that even a
comparison with similar works of previous or contemporary writers leads
to no certain results. With the exception of a few thoughts such as are
found in the second part of the Anglo-Saxon SouJ, and Body, — that soul and
body will meet in heaven after the body has paid its penalty upon earth
where it once upon a time was exalted nobly, etc.,— there is but little in
the dialogue that resembles the Anglo-Saxon. Whether this slight resem-
blance is to be considered merely accidental or actually due to some larger
original work which the copyist may have used, is a theory that would not
reward a lengthy discussion. It is possible — to judge from the style and
language of the writer — that the author of some of the preceding and fol-
lowing chapters was also the writer of this dialogue. Some of the above
mentioned chapters, " Der sel regel ; Die guldin regel, — Sibenerlay mynne
vnd liebin, etc.," resemble the works of Evehardus Cersne, a poet of whom
we only know that he lived at Minden at the end of the fourteenth and at
the beginning of the fifteenth century, and that he wrote a number of
allegorical poems and prose dialogues about "minne" and its relation to
other virtues. Whether this material, — after having been changed by a
later Southern German writer, — is to be ascribed to Cersne or to Peter
Suchenwirt, who lived in Austria (chiefly in Vienna) in the latter half of
the fourteenth century and who was likewise the author of numerous
allegorical dialogues on "minne, staete, tugend, sel," etc., is a conjecture
that suggests itself merely by the fact that the dialogues of these authors
were rather common at that time and that they were made use of by
inferior writers of the fifteenth century. How much the author of the
dialogue borrowed from older writers can, however, not be determined
with certainty, since the material seems fragmentary. A comparison of
the manuscript with others on kindred subjects might be of some assist-
ance in coming to a conclusion as to its authorship. Some of the more
important manuscripts of the fifteenth century, belonging to the same
class, are : A Nuremberg manuscript, treating of " Seele und Leichnam."
It contains 175 strophes, four lines each, and begins: "In nachtes stil zu
winter zeit." See Goedeke's Grundriss, Vol. i, p. 238. A low German
dialogue, mentioned as " Wolfenbiittler Handschrift aus Helmst. Nr.
1233. 4," is entitled : " Gesprach zwischen der Seele und dem toten Leibe."
It begins :

" In eynem jare dat gedcach

Dat eck an eynem drome lach,"
and closes :

" duth ys der zele clage
Got verlate vns alle vnse plage."

But these and a few other dialogues, apparently treating the same subject
and mentioned in Goedeke, Vol. i, p. 471, were not accessible to me.
Most of the writers of such dialogues, — as has been pointed out by

XXXVI MODERN LANGUAGE ASSOCIATION.

Goedeke, — borrowed from older documents, probably of the thirteenth
century, and very likely from patristic writers who again were familiar
with a Latin version of the Anglo-Saxon dialogue.

The dialect of our manuscript is Alemannic as is all the material con-
tained in the volume in which the dialogue is found.

Die sell spricht : du hast mir alles das genomen, daz ich vff ern ich ye gewan»

Die mynne spricht : fraw sel ir handt ainengutten getan.

Die sel : ir hand mir genomen mein chinthait.

Die myun : dawider hann ich euch geben die himlisch frewhait.

Die sel : ir hand mir genomen all mein tugend.

Die mynn : fraw sel, da wider han ich euch geben menge hailige tugend.

Die sel : fraw mynn, ir hand mir genomen gut frund vnd mag.

Die mynn : fraw sel, daz ist ain clain snod clag.

Die sel : ir hand mir genomen die welt vnd weltlichere vnd alien reichtum.

Die mynn : dz wil ich ew mit des hailigen gaistes gaben bezalen.

Die sele : ir hand mich so ser bezwungen, das mein leib ist krank worden.

Die mynn : dawider hab ich ew gegeben vil wenig grosse bechantnuss.

Die sel : ir hand verstort meines leibes flaisch vnd plut.

Die mynn : damit sind ir geziert an alien tugenden.

Die sel : ir send ain raberin, Ir sullend mir wider gelten.

Die myn : nw nement mich an die schuld.

Die sel : nw hand ir mich wolbezalt.

Die myn : die bezalung ist auffgeslagen bis in das himelreich.

27. " Goethe and Pindar." By Professor M. D. Learned,
of the University of Pennsylvania. [Read by title.]

EXTRA SESSION.

The Association met in an extra session Friday evening,
December 28th, at 8.30 o'clock, in McKean Hall, to hear the
annual address of the President of the Association. Professor
Thomas R. Price, President of the Association for the year
1900, delivered an address on "The New Function of Modern
Language Teaching." [Printed in Publications, xvi, 77 f.J

FOURTH SESSION, SATURDAY, DECEMBER 29.

President Price called to order the fourth regular session
of the meeting, Saturday morning, December 28, at 9.30
o'clock. This session was planned to celebrate the memory
of Chaucer.

PROCEEDINGS FOR 1900.

Professor F. A. March, of Lafayette College, in a brief
address commented on the study of Chaucer in America,
paying special tribute to the memory of Francis James Child.
The Secretary of the Association supplemented this address
with special reference to the scholarship and influence of
Professor March himself.

The reading of papers was then resumed.

28. "A Friend of Chaucer's." By Professor G. L. Kitt-
redge, of Harvard University. [Printed in Publications,
xvi, 450 f.]

29. " The Date of Palamon and Ardte." By Professor
John M. Manly, of the University of Chicago. [The author
being absent this paper was read by title.]

30. "Chaucer's FranWn's Tale." By Dr. W. H. Scho-
field, of Harvard University. [Printed in Publications, xvi,
405 f.]

31. "Is Chaucer to be reckoned as a Modern or as a
Medieval Poet? " By Professor F. B. Gummere, of Haverford
College.

Among the many characteristics which sunder modern poetry from the
poetry vaguely known as medieval, there are two which may be put in the
foreground. Medieval poets differ from modern poets in the quality of their
sentiment and in the nature of their humor. In the middle ages senti-
ment and humor were largely impersonal ; sentiment either lay in solution
with the material of the poem, or else belonged to a guild, as in the case
of the hymn. Humor, too, was an affair of communities rather than of
persons: see Burckhardt, Gultur der Renaissance in Italien, 6th ed., I, 167. x
On the other hand, both modern humor aud modern sentiment are over-
whelmingly individual, a quality which first comes sharply into view, for
continental poetry, with Villon, and may be studied by any reader in a
poet like Heine. Turning to Chaucer, and applying these two tests, the
critic is fain to say that this great poet is tentatively modern in his senti-
ment, triumphantly modern in his humor, and distinctly modern in the

JSee also Gaston Paris, Poesie du Moyen-Age, n, 232, and the fourth
chapter of my Beginnings of Poetry.

XXXV111 MODERN LANGUAGE ASSOCIATION.

attitude which he takes toward his own work. Distinguished from the ruck
of medieval poets, impersonal as they are, and mainly mouthpieces of some
guild or profession, Chaucer looms up as one of the first great artists. Ten
Brink (Studien, p. 1) calls him "the real creator of the poetry of art" in
English literature. Professor Lounsbury (Studies, in, 291 ff., 323 ff.) is to
the same purpose : the poet is a conscious artist, a critic even ; and his
pervasive individuality appeals to one on every page. These general con-
siderations could be reinforced by many particular examples. A famous
passage in the Nonne Prestes Tale, ridiculing Vinesauf's lament over
Kichard I, shows Chaucer's detachment from any guild, his easy satire on
quite artistic and personal grounds, and, in sum, a sharp recoil against
medieval and communal sentiment. The minor poems display a tendency
to individualize large issues of time and fate and humanity, — that almost
sure test of the modern lyric. I use the word tendency, for that is the
most that one can say ; the medieval habit is still strong with Chaucer,
and on every page, instead of this easy step from personal to cosmic, so
common in modern lyric, Chaucer appeals to his bokes, to his authorities.
" Tullius kyndenesse " is held up to Scogan in the Envoy ; all the more
modern seems the contrast in the preceding stanza, which strikes a note
less common with Chaucer than critics seem to believe :

Ne thynke I never of sleep to wake my muse
That rusteth in my shethe stille in pees ;
While I was yong, I put hir forth in prees ;
But al shal passen that men prose or ryme,
Take every man his turne as for his tyme, —

a sentiment borrowed from Chaucer's own Wife of Bath in a passage
(Prol. Wife of Bath's Tale, vv. 469-476) which is perhaps the most repre-
sentative of the poet's genius in all his works, and which, touching as it
does the enduring qualities, defies critical classification in terms of time
and environment.

Notwithstanding all these cases of detachment and individual attitude
which could be brought from the poet's works, one will find that Chaucer
is not only in the medieval world, but of it. Like Petrarch, he looks
both forward and backward, and the backward gaze is the surer of the
two. Chaucer, as everybody knows, has three claims upon his readers
which make him immortal ; he excels in narrative, in humor, in the draw-
ing of characters. The narrative poem is not a modern achievement ; and
one may therefore turn, for a decision of the question proposed in this
paper, to those other excellent differences.

Modern humor is a kind of sentiment in recoil ; and of this there are
very few traces in Chaucer. True, his humor is not of the helpless sort
so common in the middle ages. It is sharp enough, personal enough, even,
in one sense, for it is Chaucer's own ; but it is not individual sentiment

PROCEEDINGS FOR 1900. XXxix

reacting on itself. What makes it irresistible is the finish of a masterly
art which nevertheless works in medieval materials and in the medieval
manner. Chaucer is a sound churchman who still feels free to make fun
of the "priest, and does it with a suavity as distinct as Dante's ferocity of
hate. He puts his age at arm's length ; but while he sees the humor of it
in part, he belongs to it, and is unconsciously medieval in a dozen ways.
He is proud of the authorities whom he can adduce, uses the common
stock of medieval lore, and has the awe of gramarye. " In stories as men
fynde," or " I fynde eek in stories elleswhere," is the constant phrase. He
loves to parade these authorities, and treats poetry, quite in Dante's spirit,
as a kind of guild. So at the end of Troilus : —

Go, litel book . . .

But, litel book, no making thou n'envye,

But subgit be to alle poesy e !

And kis the steppes wheras thou seest pace

Virgile, Ovide, Omer, Lucan, and Stace !

To feel this medieval side of Chaucer at its best, one must read neither
the early poems nor yet the Canterbury Tales, but a fairly mature work like
the House of Fame. The lists of persons, the sights in temple and hall, the
allegory, the explanations —

For in fight and blod-shedynge
Is used gladly clarionynge . . .

are all distinctly medieval in manner and even in spirit, with a certain
touch of that helplessness which cannot always be charged to the account
of humor. Even personal and clever interruptions of the story —

As fyn as ducat of Venyse,

Of which to litel in my pouche is ...

remind one not so much of the modern poet as of the medieval reciter
and minstrel ; although the jocose reflections of the poet as the eagle bears
him aloft are far too good for any such source. Even Chaucer's great
humorous achivements, where he warms to his work and has no peer in
all verse, still cling to a type, a formula ; compare the regrets of the Wife
of Bath, in that superb passage already noted, with the wholly modern
note of Villon's Belle Heaulmiere.

It is, however, in his drawing of characters that Chaucer, great as his
triumph must be regarded, is still medieval in at least one important
characteristic. The characters are still types, and so bear the stamp of
class and even guild. In one sense, to be sure, these men and women are
splendidly individual ; but a comparison of the Wife of Bath,— this name

Xl MODERN LANGUAGE ASSOCIATION.

is significant, — with Mrs. Quickly of Eastcheap, of the Squire with Borneo,
of the Merchant with Antonio, will reveal a difference of conception not
to be explained by the passage from epic to drama, or even from Chaucer
to Shakspere. It is rather a passage from medieval and partly communal
conditions to a world which, in Burckhardt's phrase, has brought about the
emancipation of the individual. Judged by his genius, Chaucer, like any
great poet, belongs to no one period ; judged by the conditions which
governed the making of his poetry, he is mainly medieval.

32. "The Prologue of the Wife of Bath's Tale." By Pro-
fessor W. E. Mead, of the Wesleyan University. [Printed
in Publications, xvi, 388 f.]

33. "The Development of Middle English Final -ich, -ig,
-y." By Professor George Hempl, of the University of
Michigan.

In the development of Germanic -Ic- into Middle-English -ic, -ich, and
-y, the last form arose before a consonant. As the great majority of words
begin with a consonant, this form gradually got the upper hand. In the
Ormulum, the phonetic condition is still clearly shown : er\>li^ 16$ D 244,
403, 6r\Ms kare 4563, but eor}>lic dhhte 4673, 10222, also spelled eorWike dhhte
with silent -e 5667 ; but the form in -15 had begun to assert itself at the end
of a line, even if the next line began with a vowel : habeliz | Off D 79.
The adverb— northern -lik(e), southern -lich(e)— fell in with the adjective,
as did also everich, and had -ic or -ich before vowels, and -y before consonants
(which usage is still reflected in Chaucer's everichon, everydeel, everywhere ;
but in all, the form in y ultimately prevailed. The inflected adjective
and the full adverbial form in -like, -liche, continued in use (1) when the
meter demanded the stress on the -i- and the retention of the weak syllable
•e (gastlike lac 6711, but gastli-& lac 6706); (2) when a poet like Chaucer
wanted a rime for riche. The pronoun ic, ich, y, had essentially the same
development, but the fact that the syllable constituted a whole word, —
which was often used alone and not infrequently stressed, — led to an earlier
break-up of the original phonetic status. It thus appears that Old Norse
is not responsible for -ly and that " the weak form " is not the explanation
of either -ly or 7. Furthermore, these forms are as indigenous in the
South as in the North ; hence, texts with ich and I side by side are not on
that account to be charged with a mixed dialect.

34. "The Rhetoric of Verse in Chaucer." By Professor
James W. Bright, of the Johns Hopkins University.

PROCEEDINGS FOB 1900. xli

"There are never two equally good ways of reading a sentence," says
Coventry Patrnore,1 " though there may be half a dozen of writing it. If
one and the same sentence is readable in more than one way, it is because
it has more than one possible meaning." In a strict sense this is true,
but it is also true that there are often several " good ways of reading a
sentence," as is perhaps implied, and experience teaches that good readers
do not invariably hit upon the one best ' way.' Thomas Sheridan 8 was led
to remark that the Church Service is usually read with misplaced emphasis
and pause, although " at first view," he says, " one would be apt to imagine,
that in a settled service, open to all to be studied and examined at leisure,
every one, by suitable pains, might make himself master of the proper
manner of reading it." He then shows how the frequently heard manner
of reading the following verse fails to give to it its full meaning :

" Enter not into judgment with thy servant O Lord, for in thy sight shall
no man living be justified."

" Here," he says, " the words, not, servant, sight, justified, between which
it is impossible to find any connexion, or dependence of one on the other,
are principally marked. By these false emphases, the mind is turned
wholly from the main purport and drift of the verse."

Of the Lord's Prayer it is said,

" Nothing can shew the corrupt state of the art of reading, or the power
of bad habit, in a stronger light, than the manner, in which that short and
simple prayer, is generally delivered."

If it be so easy a matter, even in our prayers, not to find the emphasis
which best conveys the intended meaning of phrase and sentence, it may
safely be assumed that the emphasis of poetry is all the more subject to
misplacements. Every one will at once recall lines about which there has
been controversy as to the required emphasis. Mrs. Siddons is reported to
have put a falling inflection on the last " fail " of

Macbeth. If we should fail ?

Lady Macbeth. We fail.

Macbeth, Act I, sc. vii.

and thereby, in the judgment of Mrs. Jameson and others, revealed the
true punctuation 'of the passage. It might also be argued that in the follow-
ing lines from the first scene of the second act of the same play,

" Thou marshall'st me the way that I was going ;
And such an instrument I was to use."

1 " Essay on English Metrical Law," appended to the collective edition
of his poems. 6th. ed., London, 1897.

2 Lectures on the Art of Reading. 3d. ed., London, 1787 ; see also W.
Faulkner, Strictures on Reading the Church Service. 2nd. ed., London, 1813.

xlii MODERN LANGUAGE ASSOCIATION.

the best rendering would in each line make " was " emphatic. Again,
there are those who could not be persuaded to give up the strong emphasis
of "that" in

To ber or not to be : that is the question.

It might be vain to argue that the proof of emphasis may be the indis-
pensable meaning of the emphatic word, and that in the case of the line
just cited the sense is not impaired (that it may even be thought to be
heightened) by the elimination of the word in question. Other readers
find their chief joy in the ' choliambic hitch ' of such a line as

That dogs bark at me as I halt by them.

Rich. Ill, Act I, sc. i, 23.

The fundamental principles of English versification are best studied in
Chaucer's lines. His art blends the features of the old and new systems,
and when it is once thoroughly understood all the complexities of the fol-
lowing centuries will be easily resolved.

By the rhetoric of verse, or the rhetoric of poetry, is meant the emphasis
elicited by verse-stress when it is at variance with the usual (prose)
emphasis. Thus, for example, the verse of Chaucer will teach how signifi-
cant in 'artistic expression' are the usually unemphatic members of com-
pound words and many of the derivative and inflectional elements of the
language. We are thus brought to see a new category of ' meaning ' and
of 'notional' suggestion. To this category an important contribution is
made by the verse-stress of particles, prepositions, etc. It is therefore neces-
sary to recognize a verse-rhetorical counterpart to the accepted figurative
use of language in verse.

" Lavinia, live ; outlive thy father's days
And fame's eternal date, for virtue's praise ! "

Titus Andr., I, 1, 166.

Here Warburton changed ' And ' to ' In ' for the sake of sense, and Johnson
observed that " to outlive an eternal date is, though not philosophical, yet
poetical sense." Such a quarrel .with the poet's ' philosophy ' helps to reveal
the attitude of mind in which is waged the wider quarrel with the poet's
rhetoric. When Chaucer writes,

/
" He was war of me how I stood "

B. o/Z>., 515.
/
" And that her deeth lyth in my might also "

K T., 937.

" I am yong and unkonning, as thou wost "

K. T., 1535.

PROCEEDINGS FOR 1900.

xliii

he employs stresses that would not be agreed upon as appropriate to the
prose-reading of the lines ; the appeal is to a more delicate perception of
the articulations of the thought. Grammar and Rhetoric in the most
intimate combination disclose the true import of the declaration

" He mused his matter in mesure."

The Plowman's Tale, 89.

35. " Chaucer's Prologue and Gower's Mirour de I' Omme."
By Professor Ewald Fluegel, of the Leland Stanford Univer-
sity.

Upon the recommendation of the Executive Council the
Association elected to Honorary Membership in the Associa-
tion Professor Rudolf Haym, of the University of Halle, who
is now celebrating the close of his fiftieth year of academic
service ; and Professor Adolph Mussafia, of the University
of Vienna, who has just completed the fortieth year of his
Professorship.

The Association approved by vote the proposition, That
hereafter no title of a paper should be accepted for publication
in the programme of an annual meeting of the Association
that is not accompanied by a brief statement of the argument,
or of the purpose, of the paper.

A vote of thanks was unanimously extended to the Provost
and other officers of the University of Pennsylvania, and also
to the members of the Local Committee, for the entertain-
ment of the ' Congress of Philological and Archaeological
Societies.7

The Association adjourned at 5.30 o'clock.

Xliv MODERN LANGUAGE ASSOCIATION.

OFFICERS OF THE ASSOCIATION FOR 1901.

President,
EDWARD S. SHELDON,

Harvard University, Cambridge, Mass.
Secretary, Treasurer,

JAMES W. BRIGHT, HERBERT E. GREENE,

Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore, Md. Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore, Md.

EXECUTIVE COUNCIL.
ADOLPHE COHN, FRANCIS B. GUMMERE,

Columbia University, New York, N. Y. Haverford College, Haverford, Pa.

GEORGE T. FILES, CHARLES W. KENT,

Bowdoin College, Brunswick, Maine, University of Virginia, Charlottesville, Va.

A. R. HOHLFELD, C. C. FERRELL,

Vanderbilt University, Nashville, Tenn. University of Mississippi, Miss.

W. H. CARRUTH, CHARLES BUNDY WILSON.

University of Kansas, Lawrence, Kan. State University of Iowa, Iowa City, Iowa.

E. A. EGGERS,

State University of Ohio, Columbus, Ohio.

PHONETIC SECTION.
President, Secretary,

A. MELVILLE BELL, GEORGE HEMPL,

Washington, D. C. University of Michigan, Ann Arbor, Mich.

PEDAGOGICAL SECTION.

President, Secretary,

F. N. SCOTT, W. E. MEAD,

University of Michigan, Ann Arbor, Mich. Wesley an University, Middletown, Conn.

EXECUTIVE COMMITTEE.

ADOLPHE COHN, A. R. HOHLFELD,

First Vice-President. Second Vice-President.

CHARLES BUNDY WILSON,

Third Vice-President.

EDITORIAL COMMITTEE.
C. H. GRANDGENT, H. SCHMIDT- WARTENBERG,

Harvard University, Cambridge, Mass. University of Chicago, Chicago, HI.

PROCEEDINGS FOR 1900. xlv

MEMBERS OF THE MODERN LANGUAGE
ASSOCIATION OF AMERICA.

(INCLUDING MEMBERS OP THE CENTRAL DIVISION OF THE
ASSOCIATION).

Abernethy, Mr. J. W., Berkeley Institute, 188 Lincoln Place, Brooklyn,
N.Y.

Adams, Prof. W. A., Dartmouth College, Hanover, N. H.

Adler, Dr. Cyrus, Smithsonian Institute, Washington, D. C.

Alden, Dr. R. M., Stanford University, Cal.

Allen, Prof. Edward A., University of Missouri, Columbia, Mo.

Allen, Dr. Philip S., University of Chicago, Chicago, 111. [619 W. 60th St.]

Almstedt, Dr. Hermann B., University of Missouri, Columbia, Mo. [415
Hitt St.]

Althaus, Prof. Edward, 2770 Briggs Avenue, Bedford Park, New York,
N. Y.

Armstrong, Dr. E. C., Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore, Md.

Armstrong, Prof. J. L., Randolph-Macon Woman's College, Lynchburg, Va.

Arrowsmith, Mr. R., Editor's Rooms, American Book Co., Washington
Square, New York, N. Y.

Augustin, Prof. Marie J., Sophie Newcomb Memorial College, New Orleans,
La.

Averill, Miss Elizabeth, Concord High School, Concord, N. H. [3 Hano-
ver St.]

Aviragnet, Prof. E., Bucknell University, Lewisburg, Pa.

Ayer, Prof. C. C., State University, Boulder, Colorado.

Babbitt, Prof. E. H., University of the South, Sewanee, Tenn.

Baillot, Prof. E. P., Northwestern University, Evanston, 111.

Baker, Prof. George P., Harvard University, Cambridge, Mass. [195

Brattle St.]

Baker, Mr. Harry T., Wesleyan University, Middletown, Conn.
Baker, Dr. T. S., Tome Institute, Port Deposit, Md.
Baldwin, Dr. C. S., Yale University, New Haven, Conn.
Baldwin, Dr. Edward C., Illinois State University, Urbana 111. [704 W.

Oregon St.]
Baralt, Dr. Luis A., College of the City of New York, 128 W. 84th St.,

New York, N. Y.

xlvi MODERN LANGUAGE ASSOCIATION.

Bargy, Mr. Henry, Columbia University, New York, N. Y.
Bartelmann, Miss B. -L, Vassar College, Poughkeepsie, N. Y.
Bartlett, Mrs. D. L., 16 W. Monument St., Baltimore, Md.
Bartlett, Prof. G. A., Harvard University, Cambridge, Mass.
Bassett, Mr. R. Emerson, University of Missouri, Columbia, Mo.
Batchelder, Mr. John D., Ohio State University, Columbus, Ohio.

Becker, Dr. E. J., Baltimore City College, Baltimore, Md.

Belden, Dr. H. M., University of Missouri, Columbia, Mo.

Bell, Prof. A. Melville, 1525 35th St., W., Washington, D. C.

Bennett, Miss Georgia E , 6241 Monroe Avenue, Hyde Park Sta., Chi-
cago, 111.

Bernkopf, Miss Margarethe, Smith College, Northampton, Mass. [134
Elm St.]

Be"thune, Baron de, 57 rue de la Station, Louvain, Belgium.

Bevier, Prof. Louis, Rutgers College, New Brunswick, N. J.

Bierwirth, Dr. H. C., Harvard University, Cambridge, Mass.

Blackburn, Prof. F. A., University of Chicago, Chicago, 111.

Blackwell, Prof. R. E., Randolph-Macon College, Ashland, Va.

Blain, Prof. Hugh M., Fishburne School, Waynesboro, Va.

Blau, Prof. Max F., Adelphi College, Brooklyn, N. Y.

Bloombergh, Prof. A. A., Lafayette College, Easton, Pa.

Bonnotte, Prof. F., Western Maryland College, Westminster, Md.

Borgerhoff, Mr. J. L., University of Wisconsin, Madison, Wise.

Both-Hendriksen, Miss L., 166 Macon St., Brooklyn, N. Y.

Bothne, Prof. Gisle, Luther College, Decorah, Iowa.

Boucke, Dr. Ewald A., University of Michigan, Ann Arbor, Mich.

Bourland, Prof. Benj. P., Peoria, 111. [1301 Knoxville Road.]

Bowen, Prof. B. L., Ohio State University, Columbus, Ohio.

Bowen. Prof. E. W., Randolph-Macon College, Ashland, Va.

Bradshaw, Prof. S. E., Bethel College, Russelville, Ky.

Brandon, Prof. Edgar E., Miami University, Oxford, Ohio.

Brandt, Prof. H. C. G., Hamilton College, Clinton, N. Y.

Bre*de", Prof. C. F., 3931 Baltimore Avenue, Philadelphia, Pa.

Bright, Prof. James W., Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore, Md.

Bristol, Mr. E. N., 29 W. 23d St., New York, N. Y.

Bronson, Prof. Walter C., Brown University, Providence, R. I.

Bronson, Prof. T. B., Lawrenceville School, Lawrenceville, N. J.

Brown, Dr. Arthur C. L., University of Wisconsin, Madison, Wise. [221
Langdon St.]

Brown, Prof. Calvin S., Rutgers College, New Brunswick, N. J.

Brown, Prof. E. M., University of Cincinnati, Cincinnati, Ohio.

Brown, Dr. G. D., University of Vermont, Burlington, Vt.

Brownell, Dr. George G., University of Alabama, Tuscaloosa, Ala.

Bruce, Prof. J. D., University of Tennessee, Knoxville, Tenn. [712 W.
Maine Ave.]

PROCEEDINGS FOR 1900.

xlvii

Brumbaugh, Prof. M. G., Commissioner of Education, San Juan, Porto Kico.

Brun, Mr. Alphonse, Harvard University, Cambridge, Mass.

Brush, Dr. Murray P., Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore, Md.

Brusie, Prof. C. F., Mt. Pleasant Academy, Sing Sing, N. Y.

Bryan, Lieut. Henry F., U. S. N.: U. S. S. Newark, Navy Yard, New

York, N. Y.

Buck, Dr. Gertrude, Vassar College, Poughkeepsie, N. Y.
Burnett, Mr. A. W., Care of Messrs. Holt & Co., 29 W. 23d St., New

York, N. Y.

Butler, Prof. F. R., 168 Lafayette Street, Salem, Mass.
Butler, Prof. Pierce, University of Texas, Austin, Texas.

Cabeen, Prof. Chas. W., Syracuse University, Syracuse, N. Y. [403 Uni-
versity Place.]

Callaway, Jr., Prof. M., University of Texas, Austin, Texas.

Cameron, Prof. A. Guyot, Princeton University, Princeton, N. J. [10 Bayard
Ave.]

Campbell, Dr. Killis, University of Texas, Austin, Texas.

Campbell, Prof. T. P., Virginia Polytechnic Institute, Blacksburg, Va.

Canfield, Prof. A. G., University of Michigan, Ann Arbor, Mich.

Carpenter, Dr. F. I., University of Chicago, Chicago, 111.

Carpenter, Prof. G. K., Columbia University, New York, N. Y.

Carpenter, Prof. Wm. H., Columbia University, New York, N. Y.

Carrington, Dr. Herbert D., 1216 S. University Avenue, Ann Arbor, Mich.

Carruth, Prof. W. H., University of Kansas, Lawrence, Kansas.

Carson, Miss Lucy H., University of Illinois, Champaign, 111.

Carson, Prof. Luella Clay, University of Oregon, Eugene, Oregon.

Carteaux, Prof. G. A., Polytechnic Institute, Brooklyn, N. Y.

Chamberlin, Prof. Willis Arden, Denison University, Granville, Ohio.

Chandler, Prof. F. W., Polytechnic Institute, Brooklyn, N. Y.

Chapman, Prof. Henry Leland, Bowdoin College, Brunswick, Maine.

Chase, Dr. Frank H., Bates College, Lewiston, Maine. [24 Frye St.]

Chase, President George C., Bates College, Lewiston, Maine.

Cheek, Prof. S. R, Centre College, Danville, Ky.

Child, Dr. Clarence G., University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia, Pa.
[4237 Sansom St.]

Chiles, Mr. James A., Fayette, Missouri.

Chollet, Prof. Charles, West Virginia University, Morgantown, W. Va.

Churchill, Prof. George B., Amherst College, Amherst, Mass.

Claassen, Prof. P. A., Southwest Kansas College, Winfield, Kansas.

Clark, Prof. T. A., University of Illinois, Champaign, 111.

Clary, Mr. S. W., 110 Boylston St., Boston, Mass.

Cloran, Dr. Timothy, Vanderbilt University, Nashville, Tenn. [1006
Lamar St.]

Coar, Dr. John F., Harvard University, Cambridge, Mass. [48 Hawthorn St.]
8

Xlviii MODERN LANGUAGE ASSOCIATION.

Cohn, Prof. Adolphe, Columbia University, New York, N. Y.
Colin, Dr. The'rese F., Bryn Mawr, Pa.

Collins, Prof. George S., Brooklyn Polytechnic Institute, Brooklyn, N. Y.
Collitz, Prof. H., Bryn Mawr College, Bryn Mawr, Pa.
Colville, Mr. W. T., Carbondale, Pa.
Colvin, Dr. Mary Noyes, 27 Chestnut St., Boston, Mass.
Conklin, Prof. Clara, University of Nebraska, Lincoln, Neb.
Constant, Prof. Stanislas C., College of the City of New York (17 Lexing-
ton Ave.), New York, N. Y.

Cook, Prof. Albert S., Yale University, New Haven, Conn.
Cooper, Prof. W. A., Stanford University, Cal.
Corwin, Prof. Robert N., Yale University, New Haven, Conn.
Crane, Prof. Thomas F., Cornell University, Ithaca, N. Y.
Crawshaw, Prof. "W. H., Colgate University, Hamilton, N. Y.
Crow, Prof. Chas. L., Washington and Lee University, Lexington, Va.
Crow, Prof. Martha Foote, Northwestern University, Evanston, 111.
Crowell, Mr. A. C., German Seminar, Brown University, Providence, R. I.
Crowne, Mr. J. Vincent, 1642 Francis St., Philadelphia, Pa.
Curdy, Mr. A. E., Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore, Md.
Curme, Prof. G. O., Northwestern University, Evanston, 111.
Currell, Prof. W. S., Washington and Lee University, Lexington, Va.
Cutting, Prof. Starr W., University of Chicago, Chicago, 111.

Damon, Mr. Lindsay T., Brown University, Providence, R. 1. [196 Bond St.]

Darnall, Prof. H. J., University of Tennessee, Knoxville, Tenn.

Davidson, Prof. Charles, Albany, N. Y. [1 Sprague Place.]

Davies, Prof. W. W., Ohio Wesleyan University, Delaware, Ohio.

Davis, Mr. Edwin B., Rutgers College, New Brunswick, N. J.

De Haan, Prof. Fonger, Bryn Mawr College, Bryn Mawr, Pa.

Deeririg, Prof. R. W., Woman's College, Cleveland, Ohio. [80 Cornell St.]

Deiler, Prof. J. Hanno, Tulane University, New Orleans, La.

De Lagneau Miss L. R., Lewis Institute, Chicago, 111.

Denney, Prof. Joseph Villiers, Ohio State University, Columbus, Ohio.

Diekhofty Mr. T. J. C., Ann Arbor, Mich. [219 Packard St.]

Dodge, Prof. D. K., University of Illinois, Champaign, 111.

Dodge, Prof. R. E. Neil, University of Wisconsin, Madison, Wis. [138

West Gorham St.]

Douay, Prof. Gaston, Washington University, St. Louis, Mo.
Downer, Prof. Chas. A., College of the City of New York (cor. Lexington

Ave. and 23d St.), New York, N. Y.

Drake, Dr. Benj. M., Vanderbilt University, Nashville, Tenn.
Dunlap, Prof. C. G., University of Kansas, Lawrence, Kansas.

Eastman, Dr. Clarence W., University of Iowa, Iowa City, Iowa.
Eaeton, Prof. M. W., University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia, Pa.

PROCEEDINGS FOR 1900.

xlix

Eaton, Mrs. Abbie Fiske, 222 Langdon St., Madison, Wis.

Eddy, Prof. Robert J., Beloit College, Beloit, Wise.

Edgar, Prof. Pelham, Victoria College, Toronto, Canada.

Effinger, Dr. John R., University of Michigan, Ann Arbor, Mich. [1430

Hill Street.]

Eggers, Prof. E. A., State University of Ohio, Columbus, Ohio.
Ehret, Jr., Mr. George, New York, N. Y. [1197 Park Ave.]
Elliott, Prof. A. Marshall, Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore, Md.
Emerson, Prof. O. F., Western Reserve University, Cleveland, Ohio. [50

Wilbur Place.
Epes, Prof. John D., State Normal School, Warrensburg, Mo.

Fabregon, Prof. Casimir, College of the City of New York, 17 Lexington
Ave., New York, N. Y.

Fairchild, Mr. J. R., American Book Co., New York, N. Y.

Farnsworth, Dr. W. O., Yale University, New Haven, Conn.

Farrand, Prof. Wilson, Newark Academy, 544 High St., Newark, N. J.

Faust, Prof. A. B., Wesleyan University, Middletown, Conn.

Fay, Prof. C. E., Tufts College, College Hill, Mass.

Ferrell, Prof. C. C., University of Mississippi, University P. O., Miss.

Ferren, Dr. H. M., Allegheny, Pa,

Few, Dr. W. P., Trinity College, Durham, N. C.

Files, Prof. George T., Bowdoin College, Brunswick, Maine.

Fitz-Gerald II, Mr. John D., Columbia University, New York, N. Y.
[57 Liberty St., Newark, N. J.]

Fletcher, Mr. Jefferson Butler, Harvard University, Cambridge, Mass. [4
Riedesel Ave.]

Florer, Dr. W. W., University of Michigan, Ann Arbor, Mich.

Fluegel, Prof. Ewald, Stanford University, Cal.

Fontaine, Prof. J. A., Bryn Mawr College, Bryn Mawr, Pa.

Ford, Prof. Joseph S., Phillips Exeter Academy, Exeter, N. H.

Ford, Dr. J. D. M., Harvard University, Cambridge, Mass. [7 Thayer Hall.]

Fortier, Prof. Alce"e, Tulane University, New Orleans, La.

Fossler, Prof. L., University of Nebraska, Lincoln, Neb.

Foster, Prof. Irving L., State College, Pa.

Foulet, Mr. Lucien, Bryn Mawr College, Bryn Mawr, Pa.

Francke, Prof. K., Harvard University, Cambridge, Mass.

Fraser, Dr. M. Emma N., Elmira College, Elmira, N. Y.

Froelicher, Prof. H., Woman's College, Baltimore, Md.

Fruit, Prof. John P., William Jewell College, Liberty, Mo.

Puller, Mr. Harold De W., Harvard University [25 Thayer Hall], Cam-
bridge, Mass.

Fuller, Prof. Paul, P. O. Box 2559, New York, N. Y.

Fulton, Prof. Edward.

Furst, Prof. Clyde, B., Mountain Seminary, Birmingham, Pa.

1 MODERN LANGUAGE ASSOCIATION.

Galloo, Prof. Eugenie, University of Kansas, Lawrence, Kansas.

Garnett, Prof. James M., Baltimore, Md. [1316 Bolton St.]

Garrett, Dr. Alfred C., Logan Sta., Philadelphia, Pa.

Gaw, Mrs. Ralph H., 1321 Fillmore St., Topeka, Kansas.

Gayley, Prof. Charles M., University of California, Berkeley, Cal.

Geddes, Jr., Prof. James, Boston University, Boston, Mass.

Gerber, Prof. A., Earlham College, Richmond, Ind.

Gerig, Prof. John L., University of Nebraska, Lincoln, Neb.

Gillet, Prof. W. K., New York University, New York, N. Y.

Glen, Prof. Irving M., University of Oregon, Eugene, Oregon.

Goebel, Prof. Julius, Stanford University, Cal.

Goldsmith, Prof. Peter H., Temple College (Broad and Berks Sts.), Phila-
delphia, Pa.

Gorrell, Dr. J. H., Wake Forest College, Wake Forest, N. C.

Grandgent, Prof. C. H., Harvard University, Cambridge, Mass. [107
Walker St.]

Graves, Dr. Isabel, High School, East Orange, N. J. [48 Burnett St.]

Greene, Prof. Herbert E., Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore, Md.

Gregor, Prof. Leigh R., McGill University, Montreal, Canada.

Grossman, Prof. Edward A., 1 W. 81st St., New York, N. Y.

Griffin, Prof. James O., Stanford University, Cal.

Griffin, Prof. N. E., Wells College, Aurora, N. Y.

Grimm, Prof. K. J., Ursinus College, Collegeville, Pa.

Gruener, Prof. Gustav, Yale University, New Haven, Conn.

Grumbine, Prof. Harvey C., 4155 a West Belle Place, St. Louis, Mo.

Gudeman, Prof. A., University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia, Pa.

Guite'ras, Prof. Calixto, Girard College, Philadelphia, Pa. [929 Chest-
nut St.]

Gummere, Prof. Francis B., Haverford College, Haverford, Pa.

Gutknecht, Miss L. L., 6340 Butler St., Chicago, 111.

Gwinn, Dr. Mary M., Bryn Mawr College, Bryn Mawr, Pa.

Haas, Dr. Albert, Bryn Mawr College, Bryn Mawr, Pa.

Hale, Jr., Prof. E. E., Union College, Schenectady, N. Y.

Hall, Prof. J. Lesslie, College of William and Mary, Williamsburg, Va.

Hammond, Dr. Eleanor Prescott, 5520 Woodlawn Avenue, Chicago, 111.

Hanscom, Dr. Elizabeth D., Smith College, Northampton, Mass. [17

Henshaw Ave.]

Hardy, Dr. A. K., Dartmouth College, Hanover, N. H.
Hargrove, Mr. H. L., New Haven, Conn. [723 Elm St.]
Harper, Prof. George M., Princeton University, Princeton, N. J.
Harris, Prof. Chas., Adelbert College, Cleveland, Ohio. [77 Cutler St.]
Harris, Prof. Launcelot M., College of Charleston, Charleston, S. C. [45

East Bay St.]
Harris, Miss M. A., 22 Lynwood St., New Haven, Conn.

PROCEEDINGS FOR 1900.

Harrison, Prof. James A., University of Virginia, Charlottesville, Va.

Harrison, Prof. T. P., Davidson College, Davidson, N. C.

Hart, Prof. C. E., Rutgers College, New Brunswick, N. J. [33 Livingston
Avenue. ]

Hart, Prof. James M., Cornell University, Ithaca, N. Y.

Hatfield, Prof. James T., Northwestern University, Evanston, 111.

Haupt, Prof. Paul, Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore, Md.

Hausknecht, Prof. Emil, Kiel, Germany.

Heling, Miss Marie, Miss Mackie's School, Newburgh, N. Y.

Heller, Prof. Otto, Washington University, St. Louis, Mo.

Hempl, Prof. George, University of Michigan, Ann Arbor, Mich. [1027 E.
University Ave.]

Henckels, Prof. Theodore, Middlebury College, Middlebury, Vt.

Henneman, Prof. J. B., University of the South, Sewanee, Tenn.

Herford, Prof. C. H., University College of Wales, [Hillside] Aberystwyth,
Wales.

Herholz, Miss Ottilie, Vassar College, Poughkeepsie, N. Y.

Hervey, Mr. William A., Columbia University, New York, N. Y.

Heuermann, Miss Louise M., 149 Macon St., Brooklyn, N. Y.

Hewitt, Prof. W. T., Cornell University, Ithaca, N. Y.

Higgins, Miss Alice, 401 Macon St., Brooklyn, N. Y.

Hilton, Mr. H. H., 378 Wabash Ave., Chicago, 111. (Care of Ginn & Co.)

Hinsdale, Prof. Ellen C., Mt. Holyoke College, South Hadley, Mass.

Hobigand, Mr. J. A., 1022 Boylston St., Boston, Mass.

Hochdorfer, Prof. Richard, Wittenberg College, Springfield, Ohio.

Hoffman, Prof. B. F., University of Missouri, Columbia, Missouri.

Hohlfeld, Prof. A. R., University of Wisconsin, Madison, Wise.

Hooker, Miss Elizabeth EM Vassar College, Poughkeepsie, N. Y.

Horning, Prof. L. E., Victoria University, Toronto, Ont.

Hospes, Mrs. Cecilia, 3001 Lafayette Avenue, St. Louis, Mo.

Howe, Miss M. A., Miss Porter's School, Farmington, Conn.

Howland, Prof. George C., University of Chicago, Chicago, 111.

Hubbard, Rev. Chas. F., 922 Niagara St., Buffalo, N. Y.

Hubbard, Prof. F. G., University of Wisconsin, Madison, Wis.

Hudnall, Prof. R. H., Virginia Agric. and Mech. College, Blacksburg, Va.

Hulme, Prof. Wm. H., Western Reserve Univ., Cleveland, Ohio. [48 May-
field Road.]

Hunt, Prof. T. W., Princeton University, Princeton, N. J.

Huss, Prof. H. C. O., Princeton University, Princeton, N. J.

Ilgen, Prof. Ernest, College of the City of New York, 17 Lexington Ave.,

New York, N. Y.

Ingraham, Prof. A., The Swain Free School, New Bedford, Mass.
Isaacs, Prof. A. 8., New York University, New York, N. Y.

Hi MODERN LANGUAGE ASSOCIATION.

von Jagemann, Prof. H. C. G., Harvard University, Cambridge, Mass,

[113 Walker St.]

James, Dr. A. W., Miami College, Oxford, Ohio.
Jack, Prof. Albert E., Lake Forest University, Lake Forest, 111.
Jayne, Miss V. D., University of Illinois. [702 W. Green St., Urbana, 111. J
Jenkins, Prof. T. Atkinson, Chicago University, Chicago, 111.
Jessen, Dr. Karl D., Harvard University, Cambridge, Mass. [40£ Cherry

St.]

Jodocius, Dr. A., The De Lancey School, 1420 Pine St., Philadelphia, Pa,
Johnson, Prof. Henry, Bowdoin College, Brunswick, Maine.
Johnston, Dr. Oliver M., Stanford University, Cal.
Jonas, Prof. J. B. E., Brown University, Providence, R. I.
Jordan, Dr. Daniel, Columbia University, New York, N. Y.
Jordan, Prof. Mary A., Smith College, Northampton, Mass.
Joynes, Prof. Edward S., South Carolina College, Columbia, S. C.

Karsten, Prof. Gustaf E., University of Indiana, Bloomington, Ind.
Kearsville, Miss Elizabeth, Cedar Valley Seminary, Osage, Iowa.
Keidel, Dr. George C., Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore, Md.
Kent, Prof. Charles W., University of Virginia, Charlottesville, Va.
Keppler, Mr. Emil A. C., Columbia University, New York, N. Y.
Kern, Dr. Paul O., University of Chicago, Chicago, 111.
Kinard, Prof. James P., Winthrop Normal and Industrial College, Eock

Hill, S. C.

King, Prof. K. A., Wabash College, Crawfordsville, Ind.
Kinney, Mr. Samuel Wardwell, Hobart College, Geneva, N. Y.
Kip, Dr. Herbert Z., Vanderbilt University, Nashville, Tenn.
Kittredge,Prof. G. L.,Harvard University, Cambridge, Mass. [9 Hilliard St.]
Klaeber, Prof. Frederick, University of Minnesota, Minneapolis, Minn,
von Klenze, Dr. C., Draught's Farm, Waukesha, Wise.
Knoepfler, Prof. J. B., Iowa State Normal School, Cedar Falls, Iowa.
Knowles, Mr. Francis, with Silver, Burdett &' Co., 29-33 E. 19th St., New

York, N. Y.

Koch, Mr. Theodore W., 2002 N. 13th St., Philadelphia, Pa.
Krapp, Dr. George P., Columbia University, New York, N. Y.
Kroeh, Prof. Charles F., Stevens Inst. of Technology, Hoboken, N. J.
Krowl, Mr. Harry C., College of the City of New York, New York, N. Y.
Krug, Prof. Joseph, 51 Fourth Ave., Cleveland, Ohio.
Kuersteiner, Prof. A. F., University of Indiana, Bloomington, Ind.
Kuhns, Prof. L. Oscar, Wesleyan University, Middletown, Conn.
Kurrelmeyer, Dr. W., Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore, Md.

LaMeslee, Mr. A. Marin, Harvard University, Cambridge, Mass. [17 Feltoo

Hall.]
Lambert, Mr. M. B., 252 Madison St., Brooklyn, N. Y.

PROCEEDINGS FOR 1900.

liii

Lang, Prof., Henry R., Yale University, New Haven, Conn.

Lange, Prof. Alexis F., University of California, Berkeley, Cal.

Learned, Prof. M. D., University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia, Pa. [234

South 38th St.]

Leonard, Prof. A. N., Bates College, Lewiston, Maine.
Leonard, Prof. Jonathan. English High School, Somerville, Mass.
Lessing, Mr. O. E., University of Wisconsin, Madison, Wise.
Lewis, Prof. Charlton M., Yale University, New Haven, Conn. [158

Whitney Ave.]

Lewis, Prof. E. H., Lewis Institute, Chicago, 111. [Station D.]
Lewis, Prof. E. S., Princeton University, Princeton, N. J.
Lewis, Miss Mary Elizabeth, 233 Fountain Ave., Springfield, Ohio.
Lipscomb, Prof. Dabney, University of Mississippi, University P. O., Miss.
Littleton, Prof. J. T., Southern University, Greensboro, Ala.
Lodeman, Prof. A., Michigan State Normal School, Ypsilanti, Mich.
Logeman, Prof. H., University of Ghent, Ghent, Belgium. [153 Eue des

Buguettes],

Loiseaux, Mr. Louis A., Columbia University, New York, N. Y.
Longden, Prof. Henry B., De Pauw University, Greencastle, Ind.
Lutz, Prof. Frederick, Albion College, Albion, Mich.
Lyman, Dr. A. B., Lyman, Md.

Macine, Prof. John, University of North Dakota, University, N. D.

MacClintock, Prof. W. D., University of Chicago, Chicago, 111.

MacLean, President G. E., University of Iowa, Iowa City, Iowa. [603
College Street.]

MacMechan, Prof. Archibald, Dalhousie College, Halifax, N. 8. [72 Vic-
toria Eoad.]

Magee, Prof. Charles M., University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia, Pa.

Magill, Prof. Edward H., Swarthmore College, Swarthmore, Pa.

Manly, Prof. John M., University of Chicago, Chicago, 111.

Manning, Prof. E. W., Delaware College, Newark, Del.

March, Prof. Francis A., Lafayette College, Easton, Pa.

March, Jr., Prof. Francis A., Lafayette College, Easton, Pa.

Marcou, Dr. P. B., Harvard University, Cambridge, Mass. [42 Garden St.]

Marden, Prof. C. C., Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore, Md.

Marsh, Prof. Arthur R., Harvard University, Cambridge, Mass.

Marvin, Prof. Arthur (Principal), Union Classical Institute, Schenectady,
N. Y.

Mather, Jr., Dr. Frank Jewett, 365 Fifth Avenue, New York, N. Y.

Matthews, Prof. Brander, Columbia University, New York, N. Y. [681 West
End Ave.]

Matzke, Prof. John E., Stanford University, Cal.

McBryde, Jr., Prof. J. M., Hollins Institute, Hollins, Virginia.

liv MODERN LANGUAGE ASSOCIATION.

McClumpha, Prof. C. F., University of Minnesota, Minneapolis, Minn.
Mcllwaine, Prof. H. E., Hampden-Sidney College, Prince Edward Co.,

Virginia.

McKenzie, Dr. Kenneth, Yale University, New Haven, Conn.
McKibben, Prof. G. F., Denison University, Granville, Ohio.
McKnight, Dr. George H., Ohio State University, Columbus, Ohio. [312

W. 7th Ave.]

McLouth, Prof. L. A., New York University, New York, N. Y.
Mead, Prof. W. E., Wesleyan University, Middletown, Conn. [165 Broad St.]
Menger, Prof. L. E., Bryn Mawr College, Bryn Mawr, Pa.
Mensel, Prof. E. H., Smith College, Northampton, Mass.
Meras, Mr. B., Stern's School of Languages, 27 E. 44th St., New York, N. Y.
Merrill, Miss Katherine, 730 N. Waller Ave., Chicago, 111.
Mesloh, Prof. Charles W., Ohio State University, Columbus, Ohio.
Meyer, Dr. Edward, Western Reserve University, Cleveland, Ohio. [844

Logan Avenue.]

Meyer, Prof. George H., Urbana, 111.

Miller, Prof. Daniel T., Brighatu Young College, Logan, Utah.
Moore, Mr. A. A., Cornell University, Ithaca, N. Y.
Moore, Mr. H. B., University of Indiana, Bloomington, Ind.
Moore, Prof. K. W., Colgate University, Hamilton, N. Y.
Morris, Prof. Edgar C., Syracuse University, Syracuse, N. Y.
Morris, Prof. John, University of Georgia, Athens, Georgia.
Morton, Prof. A. H., Williams College, Williamstown, Mass.
Morton, Mr. E. P., University of Indiana, Bloomington, Ind.
Mott, Prof. L. F., College of the City of New York, New York, N. Y. [17

Lexington Avenue.]
Mulfinger, Mr. George A., 112 Seeley Avenue, Chicago, 111.

Nash, Prof. B. H., 252 Beacon St., Boston, Mass.
Neilson, Dr. W. A., Harvard University, Cambridge, Mass.
Nelson, Prof. Clara A., Ohio Wesleyan University, Delaware, Ohio.
Newcomer, Prof. A. G., Stanford University, Cal. [Palo Alto.]
Newcomer, Prof. Charles B., Drury College, Springfield, Mo.
Nichols, Mr. Alfred B., Harvard University, Cambridge, Mass. [20 Hoi-
worthy Hall]

Nitze, Dr. William A., Columbia University, New York, N. Y.
Noble, Prof. Charles, Iowa College, Grinnell, Iowa,
von Noe", Mr. Carl A., Stanford University, Cal.
Nollen, Prof. John S., Iowa College, Grinnell, Iowa.
Northup, Dr. C. S., Cornell University, Ithaca, N. Y. [402 Eddy St.]

Ogden, Dr. Philip, Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore, Md.
Oliver, Dr. Thomas E., Western Reserve University, Cleveland, Ohio.
[10 Adelbert Hall.]

PROCEEDINGS FOB 1900. lv

Olmsted, Dr. Everett W., Cornell University, Ithaca, N. Y. [730 Univer-
sity Ave.]

Olson, Prof. Julius E., University of Wisconsin, Madison, Wis.

Opdycke, Mr. L. E., University Club, New York, N. Y.

Osgood, Dr. Charles G., Yale University, New Haven, Conn. [2 Univer-
sity Place.]

Osthaus, Prof. Carl, University of Indiana, Bloomington, Ind.

Ott, Prof. J. H., Watertown, Wisconsin.

Owen, Prof. Edward T., University of Wisconsin, Madison, Wis.

Padelford, Prof. Frederick M., University of Washington, University Sta-
tion, Seattle, Wash.

Page, Dr. Curtis Hidden, Columbia University, New York, N. Y.

Palmer, Prof. Arthur H., Yale University, New Haven, Conn.

Pancoast, Prof. Henry S., Germantown, Pa. [East Johnson St.]

Paton, Miss Lucy A., 16 Riedesel Avenue, Cambridge, Mass.

Pearce, Dr. J. W., 1429 Nashville Avenue, New Orleans, La.

Pearson, Prof. C. W., Beloit College, Beloit, Wis.

Penn, Mr. H. C., University of Missouri, Columbia, Missouri.

Penniman, Dr. Josiah H., University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia,
Pa.

Perrin, Mr. Ernest N., College of the City of New York, New York,
N. Y.

Perrin, Prof. M. L., Boston University, Boston, Mass.

Petersen, Miss Kate O., 91 Eighth Avenue, Brooklyn, N. Y.

Phelps, Prof. W. L., Yale University, New Haven, Conn.

Pietsch, Dr. K., University of Chicago, Chicago, 111.

Piutti, Prof. Elise, Wells College, Aurora, N. Y.

Plimpton, Mr. George A., New York, IS. Y. [Ginn & Co., 70 Fifth Ave.]

Poll, Prof. Max, University of Cincinnati, Cincinnati, Ohio. [9 McCormick
Place, ML Auburn.]

Porter, Prof. S., Gallaudet College, Kendall Green, Washington, D. C.

Potter, Prof. Albert K., Brown University, Providence, R. I.

Prettyman, Dr. C. W., Dickinson College, Carlisle, Pa.

Erice, Prof. Thomas R., Columbia University, New York, N. Y. [62 W.
39th St.]

Primer, Prof. Sylvester, University of Texas, Austin, Texas.

Prince, Prof. J. D., New York University, New York, N. Y. [31 W. 38th
St.]

Pugh, Prof. Annie L., Wells College, Aurora, N. Y.

Pusey, Prof. Edwin D., St. John's College, Annapolis, Md.

Putnam, Dr. E. K., Stanford University, Cal.

Putzker, Prof. Albin, University of California, Berkeley, Cal.

Quinn, Dr. Arthur H., University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia, Pa.

Ivi MODERN LANGUAGE ASSOCIATION.

Kambeau, Prof. A., Mass. Inst. of Technology, Boston, Mass. [80 Harold

St., Boxbury, Boston, Mass.]
Kamsey, Mr. M. M., Stanford University, Cal.
Bead, Prof. William A., University of Arkansas, Fayetteville, Ark.
Eeed, Dr. Edward B., Yale University, New Haven, Conn.
Beeves, Prof. Chas. F., University of Washington, University Station,

Seattle, Wash.

Beeves, Prof. W. P., Kenyon College, Gambier, Ohio.
Beinecke, Miss Charlotte, Vassar College, Poughkeepsie, N. Y.
Bennert, Prof. H. A., University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia, Pa. [4232

Chestnut St.]

Bhoades, Prof. Lewis A., University of Illinois, Urbana, 111.
Bice, Mr. H. M., The University School, 48 Snow St., Providence, B. I.
Bichardson, Prof. H. B., Amherst College, Amherst, Mass.
Binger, Prof. S., Lehigh University, South Bethlehem, Pa.
Bobertson, Miss Luanna, Kelly Hall, University of Chicago, Chicago, 111.
Bobinson, Dr. F. N., Harvard University, Cambridge, Mass.
Bocfort, Prof. B., 179 South Broad St., Trenton, N. J.
Boessler, Prof. J. E., Valparaiso, Ind.
Boot, Mr. Bobert K., Yale University, New Haven, Conn.
Boy, Prof. James, Niagara Falls, Station A, N. Y.
Bumsey, Miss Olive, Wellesley College, Wellesley, Mass.
Buntz-Bees, Miss Caroline B., Bosemary Hall, Wallingford, Conn.

Sampson, Prof. M. W., University of Indiana, Bloomington, Ind.
Saunders, Mrs. M. J. T., Bandolph-Macon Woman's College, Lynchburg,

Va.

Saunderson, Prof. G. W., Bipon College, Bipon, Wisconsin.
Scharff, Miss Violette Eugenie, Adelphi College, Brooklyn, N. Y.
Schelling, Prof. F. E., University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia, Pa. [4211

Sansom St.]

Schilling, Prof. H. K., University of California, Berkeley, Cal.
Schinz, Dr. A., Bryn Mawr College, Bryn Mawr, Pa.
Schmidt, Prof. F. G. G., University of Oregon, Eugene, Oregon.
Schmidt- Wartenberg, Prof. H., University of Chicago, Chicago, 111.
Schneider, Mr. J. P., Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore, Md.
Schofield, Dr. W. H., Harvard University, Cambridge, Mass. [23 Claverly

Hall.]

Schrakamp, Miss Josepha, 67 West 38th St., New York, N. Y.
Schuetze, Dr. Martin, Northwestern University, Evanston, 111.
Schwill, Dr. Budolph, Yale University, New Haven, Conn.
Scott, Dr. C. P. G., 708 Filbert St., Philadelphia, Pa.
Scott, Prof. F. N., University of Michigan, Ann Arbor, Mich.
Scott, Dr. Mary Augusta, Smith College, Northampton, Mass. [219 Elm

St.]

PROCEEDINGS FOR 1900. Ivii

Scripture, Prof. E. W., Yale University, New Haven, Conn. [84 High St.]

Sechrist, Prof. F. K., State Normal School, Stevens Point, Wis.

Segall, Mr. Jacob, Cornell University, Ithaca, N. Y.

Semple, Prof. L. B., Boys' High School, Brooklyn, N. Y.

Severy, Prof. E. E., Bowen Academic School, Nashville, Tenn.

Seward, Mr. O. P., 5835 Drexel Ave., Chicago, 111.

Seybold, Prof. C. F., University of Cincinnati, Cincinnati, Ohio.

Sharp, Prof. E., Tulane University, New Orleans, La.

Shaw, Dr. James E., Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore, Md.

Sheldon, Prof. Edward S., Harvard University, Cambridge, Mass. [11

Francis Ave.]

Shepard, Dr. W. P., Hamilton College, Clinton, N. Y.
Sherman, Prof. L. A., University of Nebraska, Lincoln, Neb.
Shipley, Dr. George, 1314 McCulloh St., Baltimore, Md.
Shumway, Prof. D. B., University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia, Pa.
Sicard, Mr. Ernest, 540 Eddy St., Chicago, 111.
Simonds, Prof. W. E., Knox College, Galesburg, 111.

Simonton, Prof. J. S., Washington and Jefferson College, Washington, Pa.
Simpson, Dr. Marcus, 1838 Himnan Avenue, Evanston, 111.
Skalweit, Prof. Richard A., 515 Penn Avenue, Pittsburg, Pa. [Berlitz

School of Languages.]
Sloane, Dr. T. O' Conor [South Orange, N. J.], 37 and 39 Wall St., New

York, N. Y.

Smith, Prof. C. Alphonso, University of Louisiana, Baton Rouge, La.
Smith, Dr. Herbert A., 117 Montague St., Brooklyn, N. Y.
Smith, Dr. Homer, 3712 Spruce St., Philadelphia, Pa.
Smith, Prof. Hugh A., Colorado College, Colorado Springs, Colorado.
Smith, Prof. Kirby F., Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore, Md.
Snoddy, Prof. J. S., The State Normal School, Valley City, N. D.
Snow, Prof. Wm. B., English High School, Montgomery St., Boston, Mass.
Spaeth, Dr. J. D., 147 Mt. Pleasant St., Station G., Philadelphia, Pa.
Spanhoofd, Prof. Arnold Werner, Washington, D. C. [" The Olympia,"

cor. 14th and Roanoke Sts.]

Spanhoofd, Prof. E., St. Paul's School, Concord, N. H.
Spencer, Prof. Frederic, University of North Wales, Bangor, Wales. [Menai-

Bridge.]
Speranza, Prof. C. L., Columbia University, New York, N. Y. [167 Park

St., Montclair, N. J.]

Spicer, Mr. R. B., 317 Walnut St., Cincinnati, Ohio.
Spieker, Prof. E. H., Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore, Md.
Squires, Prof. Vernon P., University of North Dakota, University P. O.,

North Dakota.

Stearns, Miss Clara M., Lake Erie College, Painesville, Ohio,
van Steenderen, Prof. F. C. L., University of Iowa, Iowa City, Iowa.

Iviii MODERN LANGUAGE ASSOCIATION.

Stempel, Prof. Guido H., University of Indiana, Bloomington, Indiana.

Sterling, Miss Susan A., 811 State St., Madison, Wis.

Stoddard, Prof. F. H., New York University, N. Y. [22 W. 68th St.]

Strauss, Dr. Louis A., University of Michigan, Ann Arbor, Mich.

Sweet, Miss Marguerite, 13 Ten Broeck St., Albany, N. Y.

Swiggett, Prof. Glen L., 422 McKean House, University of Pennsylvania,

Philadelphia, Pa.

Sykes, Dr. Fred. H., Philadelphia, Pa. [Ill S. 15th St.]
Symington, Jr., Prof. W. Stuart, Amherst College, Amherst, Mass.
Syms, Prof. L. C., 372 West 32d St., New York, N. Y.

Taylor, Mr. Robert L., Dartmouth College, Hanover, N. H.

Thieme, Dr. Hugo, University of Michigan, Ann Arbor, Mich.

Thomas, Prof. Calvin, Columbia University, New York, N. Y.

Thomas, Dr. May, 5616 Monroe Ave., Chicago, 111.

Thorndike, Dr. Ashley H., Western Reserve University, Cleveland, Ohio.
[95 Mayfield St.]

Thurber, Mr. Edward A., University of Wisconsin, Madison, Wis.

Todd, Prof. H. A., Columbia University, New York, N. Y. [824 West End
Avenue.]

Tolman, Prof. A. H., University of Chicago, Chicago, 111. [5750 Wood-
lawn Ave.]

Tombo, Jr., Dr. Kudolph, Columbia University, New York, N. Y.

Toy, Prof. W. D., University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill, N. C.

Trent, Prof. W. P., Columbia University, New York, N. Y.

Triggs, Dr. Oscar L., University of Chicago, Chicago, 111. [344 E. 57th St.,
Hyde Park Sta.]

Tufts, Prof! J. A., Phillips Exeter Academy, Exeter, N. H.

Tupper, Jr., Prof. Fred., University of Vermont, Burlington, Vt.

Tupper, Dr. Jas. W., Bryn Mawr College, Bryn Mawr, Pa., 3739 Locust St.,
Philadelphia, Pa.

Turk, Prof. Milton H., Hobart College, Geneva, N. Y.

Tweedie, Prof. W. M., Mt. Allison College, Sackville, N. B.

Vance, Prof. H. A., University of Nashville, Nashville, Tenn.
Viles, Mr. George B., Cornell University, Ithaca, N. Y.
Villavaso, Prof. Ernest J., University of Texas, Austin, Texas.
Vogel, Prof. Frank, Mass. Institute of Technology, Boston, Mass.
Vos, Prof. Bert John, Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore, Md.
Voss, Prof. Ernst, University of Wisconsin, Madison, Wisconsin. [1039
University Ave.]

Wager, Prof. C. H. A., Oberlin College, Oberlin, Ohio.
Wahl, Prof. G. M., Williams College, Williamstown, Mass.
Wallace, Prof. Malcolm W., Beloit College, Beloit, Wise.

PROCEEDINGS FOR 1900. lix

Walz, Dr. John A., Harvard University, Cambridge, Mass. [1657 Cam-
bridge St.]

Warren, Prof. F. M., Yale University, New Haven, Conn.

Wauchope, Prof. Geo. A., College of South Carolina, Columbia, S. C.

Weaver, Prof. G. E. H., 203 DeKalb Square, Philadelphia, Pa.

Weber, Prof. W. L., Emory College, Oxford, Georgia.

Weeks, Prof. Kaymond, University of Missouri, Columbia, Mo.

Wenckebach, Miss Carla, Wellesley College, Wellesley, Mass.

Werner, Prof. A., College of the City of New York, New York, N. Y.

Wernicke, Prof. P., State College, Lexington, Ky.

Wesselhoeft, Mr. Edward, University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia, Pa.

West, Prof. Henry 8., " The St. Paul," Baltimore, Md.

West, Prof. Henry T., Kenyon College, Gambler, Ohio.

Weygandt, Mr. Cornelius, University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia, Pa.

Wharey, Prof. J. B., Southwestern Presbyterian Univ., Clarksville, Tenn.

Whitaker, Prof. L., Northeast Manual Training School, Howard St., below
Girard Ave., Philadelphia, Pa.

White, Prof. H. S., Cornell University, Ithaca, N. Y.

Whiteford, Dr. Robert N., High School, Peoria, 111.

Whitelock, Mr. George, 701 Guardian Trust Building, cor. German and
Calvert Sts., Baltimore, Md.

Whitney, Miss Marian P., Hillhouse High School (227 Church St.), New
Haven, Conn.

von Wien, Mr. Daniel, 418 Fourth Ave., New York, N. Y.

Wiener, Mr. Leo, Harvard University, Cambridge, Mass. [15 Billiard St.]

Wightman, Prof. J. R., Oberlin College, Oberlin, Ohio.

Wilkens, Dr. F. H., Union College, Schenectady, N. Y. [13 Gillespie St.]

Wilkin, Prof. (Mrs.) M. J. C., University of Minn., Minneapolis, Minn.

Williams, Mr. Chas. Allyn, University of Iowa, Iowa City, Iowa.

Willner, Rev. W., Meridian, Miss.

Wilson, Prof. Charles Bundy, State University of Iowa, Iowa City, Iowa.

Wilson, Prof. R. H., University of Virginia, Charlottes ville, Va.

Winchester, Prof. C. T., Wesleyan University, Middletown, Conn.

Winkler, Dr. Max, University of Michigan, Ann Arbor, Mich.

Wood, Prof. Francis A., Cornell College, Mount Vernon, Iowa.

Wood, Prof. Henry, Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore, Md.

Woods, Dr. Charles F., Pennsylvania College, Gettysburg, Pa.

Woodward, Dr. B. D., Columbia University, New York, N. Y. [Univ. Club.]

Wright, Prof. Arthur S., Case School of Applied Science, Cleveland, Ohio.

Wright, Prof. Charles B., Middlebury College, Middlebury, Vt.

Wright, Mr. C. H. C., 7 Buckingham St., Cambridge, Mass.

Wylie, Dr. Laura J., Vassar College, Poughkeepsie, N. Y.

Young, Prof. Alice, University of Iowa, Iowa City, Iowa.
Young, Dr. Mary V., Mt. Holyoke College, South Hadley, Mass.

[561]

Ix MODERN LANGUAGE ASSOCIATION.

LIBRARIES

SUBSCRIBING FOR THE PUBLICATIONS OF THE
ASSOCIATION.

Albany, N. Y. : New York State Library.

Amherst, Mass. : Amherst College Library.

Aurora, N. Y. : Wells College Library.

Baltimore, Md.: Enoch Pratt Free Library.

Baltimore, Md. : Johns Hopkins University Library.

Baltimore, Md. : Library of the Peabody Institute.

Baltimore, Md. : Woman's College Library.

Berkeley, Cal. : Library of the University of California.

Bloomington, Ind. : Indiana University Library.

Boston, Mass. : Public Library of the City of Boston.

Bryn Mawr, Pa. : Bryn Mawr College Library.

Buffalo, N. Y. : The Buffalo Library.

Burlington, Vt. : Library of the University of Vermont.

Cambridge, Mass. : Harvard University Library.

Charlottesville, Va. : Library of the University of Virginia.

Chicago, 111. : The Newberry Library.

Chicago, 111. : The General Library of the University of Chicago.

Cincinnati, Ohio : Library of the University of Cincinnati.

Cleveland, Ohio : Adelbert College Library.

Concord, N. H. : New Hampshire State Library.

Decorah, Iowa: Luther College Library.

Detroit, Mich. : The Public Library.

Evanston, 111. : Northwestern University Library.

Giessen, Germany : Die Grossherzogliche Universitats-Bibliothek.

Hartford, Conn.: Watkinson Library.

Iowa City, Iowa : Library of State University of Iowa.

Ithaca, N. Y. : Cornell University Library.

Knoxville, Tenn. : University of Tennessee Library.

Lincoln, Neb. : State University of Nebraska Library.

PROCEEDINGS FOR 1900. Ixi

Madison, Wis.: University of Wisconsin Library.

Middlebury, Vt. : Middlebury College Library.

Middletown, Conn. : Wesleyan University Library.

Minneapolis, Minn. : University of Minnesota Library.

Munich, Germany : Eonigl. Hof- und Staats-Bibliothek.

Nashville, Tenn. : Vanderbilt University Library.

New Haven, Conn.: Yale University Library.

New Orleans, La. : Library of the H. Sophie Newcomb Memorial College.

[1220 Washington Ave.]
New York, N. Y. : The New York Public Library (Astor, Lenox, and Tilden

Foundations). [40 Lafayette Place.]
New York, N. Y. : Columbia University Library.
Oberlin, Ohio : Oberlin College Library.
Paris, France : Bibliotheque de 1'Universite* a la Sorbonne.
Peoria, 111. : Peoria Public Library.
Philadelphia, Pa. : University of Pennsylvania Library.
Poughkeepsie, N. Y. : Vassar College Library.
Princeton, N. J. : Library of Princeton University.
Providence, R. I. : Providence Public Library. [32 Snow St.]
Rochester, N. Y. : Library of the University of Rochester. [Prince St.]
Rock Hill, S. C. : Winthrop Normal and Industrial College Library.
Seattle, Wash. : University of Washington Library.
South Bethlehem, Pa. : Lehigh University Library.
Springfield, Ohio : Wittenberg College Library,
Washington, D. C.: Library of Supreme Council of 33d Degree. [433

Third Street, N. W.]

Wellesley, Mass. : Wellesley College Reading Room Library.
West Point, N. Y. : Library of the U. S. Military Academy.
Williamstown, Mass. : Williams College Library.
Worcester, Mass. : Free Public Library.

Ixii MODERN LANGUAGE ASSOCIATION.

HONORARY MEMBERS.

GRAZIADO I. ASCOLI, Milan, Italy.
K. VON BAHDER, University of Leipsic.
ALOIS L. BRANDL, University of Berlin.
HENRY BRADLEY, Oxford, England.
W. BRAUNE, University of Heidelberg.
SOPHUS BUGGE, University of Christiania.
KONRAD BURDACH, University of Halle.
WENDELIN FORSTER, University of Bonn.
F. J. FURNIVALL, London, England.
GUSTAV GROBEB, University of Strassburg,
B. P. HASDEU, University of Bucharest.
RUDOLF HAYM, University of Halle.
RICHARD HEINZEL, University of Vienna.
FR. KLUGE, University of Freiburg.
PAUL MEYER, Colldge de France.
W. MEYER-LUBKE, University of Vienna.
PARCELING MENENDEZ Y PELAYO, Madrid.
JAMES A. H. MURRAY, Oxford, England.
ADOLF MUSSAFIA, University of Vienna.
ARTHUR NAPIEB, University of Oxford.
FBITZ NEUMANN, University of Heidelberg.
ADOLF NOBEEN, University of Upsala.
GASTON PARIS, College de France.
H. PAUL, University of Munich.
F. YORK POWELL, University of Oxford.
Pio RAJNA, Florence, Italy.
J. SCHIPPER, University of Vienna.
H. SCHUCHART, University of Graz.
ERICH SCHMIDT, University of Berlin.
EDUARD SIEVERS, University of Leipsic.
W. W. SKEAT, University of Cambridge.
JOHANN STORM, University of Christiania.
H. SUCHIEB, University of Halle.
HENRY SWEET, Oxford, England.
ADOLF TOBLER, University of Berlin.
KARL WEINHOLD, University of Berlin.
RICH. PAUL WULKER, University of Leipsic.

PROCEEDINGS FOR 1900. Ixiii

ROLL OF MEMBERS DECEASED.

J. T. AKERS, Central College, Richmond, Ky.

T. WHITING BANCROFT, Brown University, Providence, K. I. [1890.]

D. L. BARTLETT, Baltimore, Md. [1899.]

W. M. BASKERVILL, Vanderbilt University, Nashville, Tenn. [1899.]

DANIEL G. BRINTON, Media, Pa. [1899.]

HENRY COHN, Northwestern University, Evanston, 111. [1900.]

WILLIAM COOK, Harvard University, Cambridge, Mass. [1888.]

SUSAN R. CUTLER, Chicago, 111. [1899.]

A. N. VAN DAELL, Mass. Inst. of Technology, Boston, Mass. [1899.]

EDWARD GRAHAM DAVES, Baltimore, Md. [1894.]

W. DEUTSCH, St. Louis, Mo. [1898.]

FRANCIS R. FAVA, Columbian University, Washington, D. C. [1896.]

L. HABEL, Norwich University, Northfield, Vermont. [1886.]

GEORGE A. HENCH, University of Michigan, Ann Arbor, Mich. [1899.]

RUDOLPH HILDEBRAND, Leipsic, Germany. [1894.]

JULIAN HUGUENIN, University of Louisiana, Baton Rouge, La. [1901.]

J. KARGE, Princeton College, Princeton, N. J. [1892.]

P. L. KENDALL, Williams College, Williamstown, Mass. [1893.]

EUGENE KOLBING, Breslau, Germany. [1899.]

J. LEVY, Lexington, Mass.

JULES LOISEAU, New York, N. Y.

JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL, Cambridge, Mass. [1891.]

J. LUQUIENS, Yale University, New Haven, Conn. [1899.]

THOMAS McCABE, Bryn Mawr College, Bryn Mawr, Pa. [1891.]

J. G. R. MCELROY, University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia, Pa. [1891.]

EDWARD T. MCLAUGHLIN, Yale University, New Haven, Conn. [1893.]

SAMUEL P. MOLENAER, University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia, Pa.

[1900.]

JAMES O. MURRAY, Princeton University, Princeton, N. J. [1901.]
C. K. NELSON, Brookville, Md.
W. M. NEVIN, Lancaster, Pa.

CONRAD H. NORDBY, College of the City of New York. [1900.]
C. P. OTIS, Mass. Inst. of Technology, Boston, Mass. [1888.]
W. H. PERKINSON, University of Virginia, Charlottesville, Va. [1898.]

Jxiv MODERN LANGUAGE ASSOCIATION.

RENE DE POYEN-BELLISLE, University of Chicago, Chicago. [1900.]
CHARLES H. Koss, Agricultural and Mechanical College, Auburn, Ala.

[1900.]

O. SEIDENSTICKER, University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia, Pa. [1894.]
M. SCHELE DE VERB, University of Virginia, Charlottesville, Va. [1898.]
MAX SOHRAUER, New York, N. Y.
F. R. STENGEL, Columbia University, New York, N. Y.
H. TALLTCHET, Austin, Texas. [1894.]

E. L. WALTER, University of Michigan, Ann Arbor, Mich. [1898.]
Miss HELEXE WENCKEBACH, Wellesley College, Wellesley, Mass. [1888.]
MARGARET M. WICKHAM, Adelphi College, Brooklyn, N. Y. [1898.]
R. H. WILLIS, Chatham, Va. [1900.]

CASIMIR ZDANOWFCZ, Vanderbili University, Nashville, Tenn. [1889.]
JULIUS ZUPITZA, Berlin, Germany. [1895.]

PROCEEDINGS FOR 1900. IxV

CONSTITUTION OF THE MODERN LANGUAGE
ASSOCIATION OF AMERICA.

The name of this Society shall be The Modern Language
Association of America.

IT.

Any person approved by the Executive Council may become
a member by the payment of three dollars, and may continue a
member by the payment of the same amount each year.

in.

The object of this Association shall be the advancement of
the study of the Modern Languages and their Literatures.

IV.

The officers of this Association shall be a President, a Secre-
tary, a Treasurer, and nine members, who shall together consti-
tute the Executive Council, and these shall be elected annually
by the Association.

The Executive Council shall have charge of the general
interests of the Association, such as the election of members,
calling of meetings, selection of papers to be read, and the
determination of what papers shall be published.

VI.

This Constitution may be amended by a two-thirds vote at
any annual meeting, provided the proposed amendment has
received the approval of the Executive Council.

Ixvi MODERN LANGUAGE ASSOCIATION.

Amendment adopted by the Baltimore Convention,
December 30, 1886.

1. The Executive Council shall annually elect from its own
body three members who, with the President and the Secretary,
shall constitute the Executive Committee of the Association.

2. The three members thus elected shall be the Viee-
Presidents of the Association.

3. To this Executive Committee shall be submitted, through
the Secretary, at least one month in advance of the meeting, all
papers designed for the Association. The said Committee, or
a majority thereof, shall have power to accept or reject such
papers, and also of the papers thus accepted to designate
such as shall be read in full, and such" as shall be read in
brief, or by topics, for subsequent publication ; and to pre-
scribe a programme of proceedings, fixing the time to be
allowed for each paper and for its discussion.

v.16

Modern Language Association
America

Publications

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